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HISTORY 



MARGARET OF ANJOU, 



QUEEN OF HENRY VI. OF ENGLAND. 



BY JACOB ABBOTT. 



Witf) lSnsrabfnfl». 



NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

rSANKLIN 8Q0AEE. 
18 7 7. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the j'ear one tlioiiaand eight 
hundred and sixty-one, by 

HARPER & BROTHERS, 

In tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of 
New York. 



WINFRED. OVERHOLS^it 
DEC. 13, 1951 



PREFACE. 



The story of Margaret of Anjou forms a 
part of the history of England, for the lady, 
though of Continental origin, was the queen 
of one of the English kings, and England was 
the scene of her most remarkable adventures 
and exploits. She lived in very stormy times, 
and led a very stormy life; and her history, 
besides the interest which it excites from the 
extraordinary personal and political vicissi- 
tudes which it records, is also useful in throw- 
ing a great deal of light upon the ideas of right 
and wrong, and of good and evil, and upon the 
manners and customs, both of peace and war, 
which prevailed in England during the age of 
chivalry. 



CONTENTS. 



CflAPTEB PAGB 

I. THE HOUSES OF YORK AND LANCASTER 15 

II. MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE TIME 30 

III. KING HENRY VI 4G 

IV. Margaret's father and mother 59 

V. ROYAL courtship 75 

VI. the wedding 93 

VII. reception in ENGLAND 115 

VIII. THE story of LADY NEVILLE 125 

IX. PLOTTINGS 143 

X. THE FALL OF GLOUCESTER 157 

XI. THE FALL OF SUFFOLK 171 

XII. BIRTH OF A PRINCE 188 

XIII. ILLNESS OF THE KING 199 

XIV. ANXIETY AND TROUBLE 207 

XV. MARGARET A FUGITIVE. 222 

XVI. MARGARET TRIUMPHANT 231 

XVII. MARGARET AN EXILE 237 

XVIII. A ROYAL COUSIN 244 

XIX. RETURN TO ENGLAND 254 

XX. YEARS OF EXILE 269 

XXI. THE RECONCILIATION WITH WARWICK 278 

XXII. BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT 285 

XXIII. CHILDLESS, AND A WIDOW 292 

XXIV. CONCLUSION 306 



ENGRAVINGS. 



PAGB 

THE BRIDAL PROCESSION Frontispiece. 

GENERAL MAP 14 

SELECTING THE ROSES., ^ 22 

ORDEAL COMBAT 35 

HENRY VI. IN HIS YOUTH 54 

THE PENANCE 56 

DISTRESS OF MARGARET's MOTHER 65 

SUFFOLK PRESENTING MARGARET TO THE KING 107 

ANCIENT PORTRAIT OF QUEEN MARGARET 117 

FEMALE COSTUME IN THE TIME OF HENRY VI 138 

THE CHARGES AGAINST GLOUCESTER 160 

ROUEN 176 

VIEW OF BORDEAUX 180 

THE TEMPLE GARDEN 192 

THE LITTLE PRINCE AND HIS SWANS 220 

MURDER OF RICHARd's CHILD 235 

LOUIS XI., Margaret's cousin 251 

MAP OF THE BORDER 255 

MARGARET AT THE CAVE 2G3 

DEATH OF WARWICK 289 

TEWKESBURY 297 

THE MURDER OF PRINCE HENRY 302 

VIEW OF CHERTSEY 308 




J«< — . 



^ ILLUSTRATING \ 



MARGARET OF ANJOU. 



Chapter I. 

The Houses of York and Lancas- 
ter. 

A real heroine. Two great quarrels, 

MAEGAEET OF ANJOU was a heroine ; 
not a heroine of romance and fiction, but 
of stern and terrible reality. Her life was a se- 
ries of military exploits, attended with dangers, 
privations, sufferings, and wonderful vicissi- 
tudes of fortune, scarcely to be paralleled in the 
whole history of mankind. 

She was born and lived in a period during 
which there prevailed in the western part of 
Europe two great and dreadful quarrels, which 
lasted for more than a hundred years, and which 
kept France and England, and all the countries 
contiguous to them, in a state of continual com- 
motion during all that time. 

The first of these quarrels grew out of a dis- 
pute which arose among the various branches 
of the royal family of England in respect to the 



16 • Margaret of Akjou. 

Wars in France. Contest between the houses of York and Lancaster. 

succession to the crown. The two principal 
branches of the family were the descendants re- 
spectively of the Dukes of York and Lancaster, 
and the wars which they waged against each 
other are called in history the wars of the 
houses of York and Lancaster. These wars 
continued for several successive generations, 
and Margaret of Anjou was the queen of one 
of the most prominent representatives of the 
Lancaster line. Thus she became most inti- 
mately involved in the quarrel. 

The second great contention which prevailed 
during this period consisted of the wars waged 
between France and England for the possession 
of the territory which now forms the northern 
portion of France. A large portion of that ter- 
ritory, during the reigns that immediately pre- 
ceded the time of Margaret of Anjou, had be- 
longed to England. But the kings of France 
were continually attempting to regain posses- 
sion of it — the English, of course, all the time 
making desperate resistance. Thus, for a hund- 
red years, including the time while Margaret 
lived, England was involved in a double set of 
wars — the one internal, being waged by one 
branch of the royal family against the other for 
the possession of the throne, and the other ex- 
ternal, being waged against France and other 



The Houses of York, Etc. 17 

Origin of the difficulty. 

Continental powers for the possession of the 
towns and castles, and the country dependent 
upon them, which lay along the southern shore 
of the English Channel. 

In order that the story of Margaret of Anjou 
may be properly understood, it will be necessa- 
ry first to give some explanations in respect to 
the nature of these two quarrels, and to the 
progress which had been made in them up to 
the time when Margaret came upon the stage. 
We shall begin with the internal or civil wars 
which were waged between the families of York 
and Lancaster. Some account of the origin and 
nature of this difficulty is given in our history 
of Eichard III., but it is necessary to allude to 
it again here, and to state some additional par- 
ticulars in respect to it, on account of the very 
important part which Margaret of Anjou per- 
formed in the quarrel. 

The difficulty originated among the children 
and descendants of King Edward III. He 
reigned in the early part of the fourteenth cen- 
tury. He occupied the throne a long time, and 
his reign was considered very prosperous and 
glorious. The prosperity and glory of it con- 
sisted, in a great measure, in the success of the 
wars which he waged in France, and in the 
towns, and castles, and districts of country 



18 Maegaeet of Anjou. 

The sons of Edward III. The Black Prince. 

which he conquered there, and annexed to the 
English domain. 

In these wars old King Edward was assisted 
very much by the princes his sons, who were 
very warlike young men, and who were en- 
gaged from time to time in many victorious 
campaigns on the Continent. They began this 
career when they were very young, and they 
continued it through all the years of their man- 
hood and middle life, for their father lived to 
an advanced age. 

The most remarkable of these warlike princes 
were Edward and John. Edward was the old- 
est son, and John the third in order of age of 
those who arrived at maturity. The name of 
the second was Lionel. Edward, the oldest 
son, was of course the Prince of Wales ; but, to 
distinguish him from other Princes of Wales 
that preceded and followed him, he is known 
commonly in history by the name of the Black 
Prince. He received this name originally on 
account of something about his armor which 
was black, and which marked his appearance 
among the other knights on the field of battle. 

The Black Prince did not Hve to succeed his 
father and inherit the throne, for he lost his 
health in his campaigns on the Continent, and 
came home to England, and died a iew years 



The Houses of Yoek, Etc. 19 

Richard II. John of Gaunt. 

before his father died. His son, whose name 
was Richard, was his heir, and when at length 
old King Edward died, this young Richard 
succeeded to the crown, under the title of King 
Richard II. In the history of Richard 11. , in 
this series, a full account of the life of his fa- 
ther, the Black Prince, is given, and of the va- 
rious remarkable adventures that he met with 
in his Continental campaigns. 

Prince John, the third of the sons of old 
King Edward, is commonly known in history 
as John of Gaunt. This word Gaunt was the 
nearest approach that the English people could 
make in those days to the pronunciation of the 
word Ghent, the name of the town where John 
was born. For King Edward, in the early 
part of his life, was accustomed to take all his 
family wHh him in his Continental campaigns, 
and so his several children were born in differ- 
ent places, one in one city and another in an- 
other, and many of them received names from 
the places where they happened to be born. 

On the following page we have a genealogic- 
al table of the family of Edward III. At the 
head of it we have the names of Edward III. 
and Philippa his wife. In a line below are 
the names of those four of his sons whose de- 
scendants figure in English history. It was 



20 



Margaret of Anjou. 



Genealogical table of the descendants of Edward III. 



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SELECTING THE KOSES. 



The Houses of York, Etc. 23 

The roses. The four brothers. 



among the descendants of these sons that the 
celebrated wars between the houses of York 
and Lancaster, called the wars of the roses, 
arose. 

These wars were called the wars of the roses 
from the circumstance that the white and the 
red rose happened in some way to be chosen 
as the badges of the two parties — the white 
rose being that of the house of York, and the 
red that of the house of Lancaster. ■ 

The reader will observe that the dukes of 
Lancaster and York are the third and fourth 
of the brothers enumerated in the table, where- 
as it might have been supposed that any con. 
test which should have arisen in respect to the 
crown would have taken place between fami- 
lies of the first and second. But the first and 
second sons and their descendants were soon 
set aside, as it were, from the competition, in 
the following manner. 

The line of the first brother soon became ex- 
tinct. Edward himself, the Prince of Wales, 
died during his father's lifetime, leaving his 
son Richard as his heir. Then, when the old 
king died, Richard succeeded him. As he was 
the oldest living son of the oldest son, his 
claim could not be disputed, and so his uncles 
acquiesced in it. They wished very much, it 



24 Margaeet of Anjou. 



Ambition of Richard's uncles. Richard's character. His cousin Henry. 

is true, to govern the realm, but tliey content- 
ed themselves with ruling in Kichard's name 
until he became of age, and then Eichard took 
the government into his own hands. The 
country was tolerably well satisfied under his 
dominion for some years, but at length Eichard 
became dissipated and vicious, and he domin- 
eered over the people of England in so haugh- 
ty a manner, and oppressed them so severely 
by the taxes and other exactions which he laid 
upon them, that a very general discontent pre- 
vailed at last against him and against his gov- 
ernment. This discontent would have given 
either of his uncles a great advantage in any 
design which they might have formed to take 
away the crown from him. As it was, it great- 
ly increased their power and influence in the 
land, and diminished, in a corresponding de- 
gree, that of the king. The uncles appear to 
have been contented with this share of power 
and influence, which seemed naturally to fall 
into their hands, and did not attempt any open 
rebellion. 

Eichard had a cousin, however, a young man 
of just about his own age, who was driven at 
last, by a peculiar train of circumstances, to rise 
against him. This cousin was the son of his 
uncle John. His name was Henry Boling- 



The Houses of York, Etc. 25 

Quarrel between Henry and Norfolk. The trial. 

broke. He appears in. the genealogical table 
as Henry lY., that having been his title subse- 
quently as King of England. 

This cousin Henry became involved in a 
quarrel with a certain nobleman named Nor- 
folk. Indeed, the nobles of those days were 
continually getting engaged in feuds and quar- 
rels, which they fought out with the greatest 
recklessness, sometimes by regular battles be- 
tween armies of retainers, and sometimes by 
single combat, in which the parties to the dis- 
pute were supposed to appeal to Almighty 
God, who they believed, or professed to believe, 
would give the victory to the just side in the 
quarrel. These single combats were arranged 
with great ceremony and parade, and were per- 
formed in a very public and solemn manner ; 
being, in fact, a recognized and established part 
of the system of public law as administered in 
those days. In the next chapter, when speak- 
ing more particularly of the manners and cus- 
toms of the times, I shall give an account in full 
of one of these duels. I have only to say here 
that Eichard, on hearing of the quarrel between 
his cousin Henry and Norfolk, decreed that 
they should settle it by single combat, and prep- 
arations were accordingly made for the trial, 
and the parties appeared, armed and equipped 



26 Margaret of Anjou. 

Henry is sent into banishment. 

for the fight, in the presence of an immense 
concourse of people assembled to witness the 
spectacle. The king himself was to preside on 
the occasion. 

But just before the signal was to be given for 
the combat to begm, the king interrupted the 
proceedings, and declared that he would decide 
the question himself. He pronounced both the 
combatants guilty, and issued a decree of ban- 
ishment against both. Henry submitted, and 
both prepared to leave the country. These 
transactions, of course, attracted great attention 
throughout England, and they operated to bring 
Henry forward in a very conspicuous manner 
before the people of the realm. He was in the 
direct line of succession to the crown, and he 
was, moreover, a prince of great wealth, and of 
immense personal influence, and so, just in pro- 
portion as Eichard himself was disliked, Henry 
w^ould naturally become an object of popular 
sympathy and regard. When he set out on his 
journey toward the southern coast, in order to 
leave the country in pursuance of his sentence, 
the people flocked along the waysides, and as- 
sembled in the towns where he passed, as if he 
were a conqueror returning from his victories 
instead of a condemned criminal going into 
banishment. 



1400.] The Houses of Yore, Etc. 27 

lliri e:itates confiscated. A revolution. 



Soon after this, tlie Duke of Lancaster, Hen- 
ry's father, died, and then Eichard, instead of 
allowing his cousin to succeed to the immense 
estates which liis father left, confiscated all the 
property, under the pretext that Henry had for- 
feited it, and so converted it to his own use. 
This last outrage aroused Henry to such a pitch 
of indignation that he resolved to invade En- 
gland, depose Eichard, and claim the crown for 
himself 

This plan was carried into effect. Henry 
raised an armament, crossed the Channel, and 
landed in England. The people took sides. A 
great majority sided with Henry. A full ac- 
count of this insurrection and invasion is given 
in our history of Eichard H. All that it is nec- 
essary to say here is that the revolution was ef- 
fected. Eichard was deposed, and Henry ob- 
tained possession of the kingdom. It was thus 
that the house of Lancaster first became estab- 
lished on the throne. 

But you will very naturally wonder where 
the representatives of the second brother in 
Edward the Third's family were all this time, 
and why, when Eichard was deposed, who was 
the son of the first brother, they did not appear, 
and advance their claims in competition with 
Henry. The reason was because there was no 



28 Makgaret of Anjou. 

The elder branches of the family, 

male heir of that branch living in that line. 
You will see by referring again to the table that 
the only child of Lionel, the second brother, 
was Philippa, a girl. She had a son, it is true, 
Roger Mortimer, as appears by the table ; but 
he was yet very young, and could do nothing 
to assert the claims of his line. Besides, Henry 
pretended that, together with his claims to the 
throne through his father, he had others more 
ancient and better founded still through his 
mother, who, as he attempted to prove, was de- 
scended from an English king who reigned le- 
fore Edward III, The people of England, as 
they wished to have Henry for king, were very 
easily satisfied with his arguments, and so it 
was settled that he should reign. The line of 
this second brother, however, did not give up 
their claims, but reserved them, intending to rise 
and assert them on the very first favorable op- 
portunity. 

Henry reigned about thirteen years, and 
then was succeeded by his son, Henry Y., as 
appears by the table. There was no attempt 
to disturb the Lancastrian line in their posses- 
sion of the throne during these two reigns. 
The attention, both of the kings and of the peo- 
ple, during all this period, was almost wholly 
engrossed in the wars which they were waging 



1422.] The Houses of Yoek, Etc. 29 

Birth and accession of Henry VI. 

in France. These wars were very successfui. 
The English conquered province after province 
and castle after castle, until at length almost 
the whole country was brought under their 
sway. 

This state of things continued until the death 
of Henry Y., which took place in 1422. He 
left for his heir a little son, named also Heuvy, 
then only about nine months old. This infant 
was at once invested with the rojdl authority 
as King of England and France, under the title 
of Henry YI., as seen by the table. It was 
this Henry who, when he arrived at maturity, 
became the husband of Margaret of Anjou, the 
subject of this volume. It was during his 
reign, too, that the first effective attempt was 
made to dispute the right of the house of Lan- 
caster to the throne, and it was in the terrible 
contests which this attempt brought on that 
Margaret displayed the extraordinary military 
heroism for which she became so renowned. 
I shall relate the early history of this king, and 
explain the nature of the combination which 
was formed during his reign against the Lan- 
castrian line, in a subsequent chapter, after 
first giving a brief account of such of the man- 
ners and customs of those times as are neces- 
sary to a proper understanding of the story. 



30 Margaret of Anjou. 



The nobles. Their mode of life. 



Chapter IL 

Manners and Customs of the 
Time. 

IN the days when Margaret of Anjou lived,, 
the kings, princes, nobles, and knights who 
flourished in the realms of England and France, 
though they were, relatively to the mass of the 
people, far more wealthy, proud, and powerful 
than their successors are at the present day, 
still lived in many respects in a very rude and 
barbarous manner. They enjoyed very few of 
the benefits and privileges which all classes 
enjoy in the age in which we live. They had 
very few books, and very little advantage of 
instruction to enable them to read those that 
they had. There were no good roads by which 
they could travel comfortably from place to 
place, and no wheeled carriages. They lived 
in castles, very strongly built indeed, and very 
grand and picturesque sometimes in external 
appearance, but very illy furnished and com- 
fortless within. The artisans were skillful in 
fabricating splendid caparisons for the horses, 
and costly suits of glittering armor for the men, 



1 



Manneks and Customs. 31 

Retainers of the nobles. Their courts. 

and the architects could construct grand cathe- 
drals, and ornament them with sculptures and 
columns which are the wonder of the present 
age. But in respect to all the ordinary means 
and appliances of daily life, even the most 
wealthy and powerful nobles lived m. a very 
barbarous way. 

The mass of the common people were held 
in a state of abject submission to the will of 
the chieftains, very much in the condition of 
slaves, being compelled to toil in the cultiva- 
tion of their masters' lands, or to go out as sol- 
diers to fight in their quarrels, without receiv- 
ing any compensation. The great ambition of 
every noble and knight was to have as many 
of these retainers as possible under his com- 
mand. The only limit to the number which 
each chieftain could assemble was his power 
of feeding them. For in those days men could 
be more easily found to fight than to engage 
in any other employment, and there were great 
numbers always ready to follow any command- 
er who was able to maintain them. 

Each great noble lived in state in his castle, 
like a prince or a petty king. Those of the 
highest class had their privy councilors, treas- 
urers, marshals, constables, stewards, secreta- 
ries, heralds, pursuivants, pages, guards, trum- 



32 Margaret of Anjou. 

Great power of the nobles. The Earl of Warwick. 

peters — in short, all the various officers that 
were to be found in the court of the sovereign. 
To these were added whole bands of minstrels, 
mimics, jugglers, tumblers, rope-dancers, and 
buffoons. Besides these, there was always at- 
tached to each great castle a large company of 
priests and monks, who performed divine serv- 
ice according to the usages of those times, in a 
gorgeously-decorated chapel built for this pur- 
pose within the castle walls. 

Thus the whole country was divided, as it 
were, into a vast number of separate jurisdic- 
tions, each with an earl, or a baron, or a duke 
at the head of it, who ruled with an almost ab- 
solute sway in every thing that related to the 
internal management of his province, while, 
however, he recognized a certain general do- 
minion over all on the part of the king. Such 
being the state of the case, it is not surprising 
that the nobles were often powerful enough, 
as will appear in the course of this narrative, 
to band together and set up and put down 
kings at their pleasure. 

Perhaps the most powerful of all the great 
nobles who flourished during the time of Mar- 
garet of Anjou was the Earl of Warwick. So 
great was his influence in deciding between the 
rival claims of different pretenders to the crown, 



Manners and Customs. 33 

Amusements of the nobility. Courts of justice. 

that lie is known in history by the title of the 
King-maker. His wealth was so enormous that 
it was said that the body of retainers that he 
maintained amounted sometimes in number to 
thirty thousand men. 

The employments, and even the amusements 
of these great barons and nobles, were all mili- 
tary. They looked down with great disdain 
upon all the useful pursuits of art and indus- 
try, regarding them as only fit occupations for 
serfs and slaves. Their business was going to 
war, either independently against each other, 
or, under the command of the king, against 
some common enemy. When they were not 
engaged in any of these wars they amused 
themselves and the people of their courts with 
tournaments, and mock combats and encoun- 
ters of all kinds, which they arranged in open 
grounds contiguous to their castles with great 
pomp and parade. 

It could not be expected that such powerful 
and warlike chieftains as these could be kept 
much under the control of law by the ordinary 
machinery of courts of justice. There were, 
of course, laws and courts of justice in those 
days, but they were administered chiefly upon 
the common people, for the repression of com- 
mon crimes. - The nobles, in their quarrels and 
C 



84 Makgaeet of Anjou. 

Quarrels among the nobles. Dueling. 

contentions with, each other, were accustomed 
to settle the questions that arose in other ways. 
Sometimes they did this by marshaling their 
troops and fighting each other in regular cam- 
paigns, during which they laid siege to castles, 
and ravaged villages and fields, as in times of 
public war. Sometimes, when the power of 
the king was sufficient to prevent such out- 
breaks as these, the parties to the quarrel were 
summoned to settle the dispute by single com- 
bat in the presence of the king and his court, 
as well as of a vast multitude of assembled 
spectators. These single combats were the 
origin of the modern custom of dueling. 

At the present day, the settlement of dis- 
putes by a private combat between the parties 
to it is made a crime by the laws of the land. 
It is justly considered a barbarous and sense- 
less practice. The man who provokes another 
to a duel and then kills him in the fight, in- 
stead of acquiring any glory by the deed, has 
to bear, for the rest of his life, both in his own 
conscience and in the opinion of mankind, the 
mark and stain of murder. And when, in de- 
fiance of law, and of the opinions and wishes 
of all good men, any two disputants who have 
become involved in a quarrel are rendered so 
desperate by their angry passions, as to desire 



Manners and Customs. 



3?; 



The ancient trial by combat. 



Old representation of it. 



to satisfy them by this mode, they are obliged 
to resort to all sorts of manoeuvres and strata- 
gems to conceal the crime which they are about 
to commit, and to avoid the interference of 
their friends or of the officers of the law. 

In the days, however, of the semi-savage 
knights and barons who flourished so luxuri- 
antly in the times of which we are writing, the 
settlement of a dispute by single combat be- 
tween the two parties to it was an openly rec- 
ognized and perfectly legitimate mode of arbi- 
tration, and the trial of the question was con- 
ducted with forms and ceremonies even more 




OEDILVL COMBAT. 



86 Margaret of Anjou. 

Henry Bolingbroke. Arrangements made. 

strict and more solemn tlian those which gov- 
erned the proceedings in regular courts of jus- 
tice. 

The engraving on the preceding page is a 
sort of rude emblematic representation of such 
a trial, copied from a drawing in an ancient 
manuscript. We see the combatants in the fore- 
ground, with the judges and spectators behind. 

It was to a public and solemn combat of this 1 
kind that Eichard the Second summoned his 
cousin Henry Bolingbroke, and his enemy, as | 
related in the last chapter. In that instance 
the combat was not fought, the king having | 
taken the case into his own hands, and con- 
demned both the parties before the contest was 
begun. But in multitudes of other cases the 
trial was carried through to its consummation 
in the death of one party, and the triumph and 
acquittal of the other. 

Yery many detailed and full accounts of these 
combats have come down to us in the writings 
of the ancient chroniclers. I will here give a 
description of one of them, as an example of 
this mode of trial, which was fought in the pub- 
lic square in front of King Eichard the Second's 
palace, the king himself, all the principal nobles 
of the court, and a great crowd of other persons 
being provided with seats around the area as 



Mannees and Customs. 87 

Guards. Great concourse of people. The parties. Nature of the quaiTel. 

spectators of the fight. The nobles and knights 
were all dressed in complete armor ; and her- 
alds, and squires, and guards were stationed in 
great numbers to regulate the proceedings. It 
was on a bright morning in June when the 
combat was fought, and the whole aspect of the 
scene was that of a grand and joyful spectacle 
on a gala day. 

It was estimated that more people from the 
surrounding country came to London on the 
occasion of this duel than at the time of the 
coronation of the king. It took place about 
three years after the coronation. 

The parties to the combat were John Annes- 
lie, a knight, and Thomas Katrington, a squire. 
Anneslie, the knight, was the complainant and 
the challenger. Katrington, the squire, was the 
defendant. The circumstances of the case were 
as follows. 

Katrington, the squire, was governor of a cas- 
tle in Normandy. The castle belonged to a 
certain English knight who afterward died, and 
his estate descended to Anneslie, the complain- 
ant in this quarrel. If the squire had success- 
fully defended the castle from the French who 
attacked it, then it would have descended with 
the other property to Anneslie. But he did 
not. When the French came and laid siege to 



88 Maegaret of Anjou. 



Castle lost. Reason for this mode of trial 

the castle, Katrington surrendered it, and so it 
was lost. He maintained that he had not a 
sufficient force to defend it, and that he had no 
alternative but to surrender. Anneslie, on the 
other hand, alleged that he might have defend- 
ed it, and that he would have done so if he had 
been faithful to his trust ; but that he had been 
hrihed by the French to give it up. This Kat- 
rington denied ; so Anneslie, who was very an- 
gry at the loss of the castle, challenged him to 
single combat to try the question. 

It is plain that this was a very absurd way 
of attempting to ascertain whether Katrington 
had or had not been bribed ; but, as the affair 
had occurred some years before, and in another 
country, and as, moreover, the giving and re- 
ceiving of bribes are facts always very difficult 
to be proved by ordinary evidence, it was de- 
cided by the government of the king that this 
was a proper case for the trial by combat, and ; 
both parties were ordered to prepare for the 
fight. The day, too, was fixed, and the place — 
the public square opposite the king's palace- 
was appointed. As the time drew nigh, the 
whole country for many miles around was ex- 
cited to the highest pitch of interest and expec- 
tation. 

At the place where the combat was to be 



Manners and Customs. 39 

The company assemble. The combatants appear. The horse excluded. 

fought a large space was railed in by a very 
substantial barricade. The barricade was made 
very strong, so as to resist the utmost possible 
pressure of the crowd. Elevated seats, com- 
manding a full view of the lists, as the area 
railed in was called, were erected for the use of 
the king and the nobles of the court, and all 
other necessary preparations were made. When 
the hour arrived on the appointed day, the king 
and the nobles came in great state and took their 
places. The whole square, with the exception 
of the lists and proper avenues of approach, 
which were kept open by the men-at-arms, had 
long since been filled with an immense crowd 
of people from the surrounding country. At 
length, after a brief period of expectation, the 
challenger, Anneslie, was seen coming along 
one of the approaches, mounted on a horse 
splendidly caparisoned, and attended by sever- 
al knights and squires, his friends, all complete- 
ly armed. 

He stopped when he reached the railing and 
dismounted from his horse. It was against the 
laws of the combat for either party to enter the 
lists mounted. If a horse went within the in- 
closure he was forfeited by that act to a certain 
public officer called the high constable of En- 
gland, who was responsible for the regularity 
and order of the proceedings. 



40 Margaeet of Anjou. 

Summons to the accused. Appearance of Katrington. 

Anneslie, having thus dismounted from his 
horse with the assistance of his attendants, 
walked into the hsts all armed and equipped 
for the fight. His squires attended him. He 
walked there to and fro a few minutes, and then 
a herald, blowing a trumpet, summoned the 
accused to appear. 

''Thomas Katrington! Thomas Katring- 
ton !" he cried out in a loud voice, "come and 
appear, to save the action for which Sir John 
Anneslie, knight, hath publicly and by writing 
appealed thee !" 

Three times the herald proclaimed this sum- 
mons. At the third time Katrington appeared. 

He came, as Anneslie had come, mounted 
upon a war-horse splendidly caparisoned, and 
with his arms embroidered on the trappings. 
He was attended by his friends, the representa- 
tives of the seconds of the modern duel. The 
two stopped at the entrance of the lists, and 
dismounting, passed into the lists on foot. Ev- 
ery body being now intent on the combatants, 
the horse for the moment was let go, and, be- 
ing eager to follow his master, he ran up and 
down along the railing, reaching his head and 
neck over as far as he could, and trying to get 
over. At length he was taken and led away ; 
but the lord high constable said at once that 



Manners and Customs. 41 

Horse's head forfeited. The pleadings. Katrington is ready. 

he should claim him for having entered the 
lists. 

"At least," said he, "I shall claim his head 
and neck, and as much of him as was over the 
railing." 

The combatants now stood confronting each 
other within the lists. A written document 
was produced, which had been prepared, as was 
said, by consent of both parties, containing a 
statement of the charge made against Katring- 
ton, namely, that of treason, in having betray- 
ed to the enemy for money a castle intrusted 
to his charge, and his reply. The herald read 
this document with a loud voice, in order that 
all the assembly, or as many as possible, might 
hear it. As soon as it was read, Katrington 
began to take exceptions to some passages in 
it. The Duke of Lancaster, who seemed to 
preside on the occasion, put an end to his crit- 
icisms at once, saying that he had already 
agreed to the paper, and that now, if he made 
any difficulty about it, and refused to fight, he 
should be adjudged guilty of the treason, and 
should at once be led out to execution. 

Katrington then said that he was ready to 
fight his antagonist, not only on the points 
raised in the document which had been read, 
but on any and all other points whatever that 



42 Margaeet of Akjou. 

Singular oath administered. The battle. 

might be laid to his charge. He had entire 
confidence, he said, that the justice of his cause 
would secure him the victory. 

The next proceeding in this strange ceremo- 
ny was singular enough. It was the solemn 
administering of an oath to each of the combat- 
ants, by which oath they severally swore that 
the cause in which they were to fight was true, 
and that they did not deal in any witchcraft or 
magic art, by which they expected to gain the 
victory over their adversary; and also, that 
they had not about their persons any herb or 
stone, or charm of any kind, by which they 
hoped to obtain any advantage. 

After this oath had been administered, time 
was allowed for the combatants to say their 
prayers. This ceremony they performed ap- 
parently in a very devout manner, and then 
the battle began. 

The combatants fought first with spears, then 
with swords, and finally, coming to very close 
quarters, with daggers. Anneslie seemed to 
gain the advantage. He succeeded in disarm- 
ing Katrington of one after another of his 
weapons, and finally threw him down. When 
Katrington was down, Anneslie attempted to 
throw himself upon him, in order to crush him 
with the weight of his heavy iron armor. But 






Manners and Customs. 43 

The proceedings arrested by the king. 

he was exhausted by the heat and by the exer- 
tion which he had made, and the perspiration 
running down from his forehead under his hel- 
met blinded his eyes, so that he could not see 
exactly where Katrington was, and, instead of 
falling upon him, he came down upon the 
ground at a little distance away. Katrington 
then contrived to make his way to Anneslie 
and to get upon him, thus pressing him down 
to the ground with his weight. The combat- 
ants lay thus a few minutes locked together on 
the ground, and struggling with each other as 
well as their heavy and cumbrous armor would 
permit, Katrington being all the time upper- 
most, when the king at length gave orders that 
the contest should cease and that the men 
should be separated. 

In obedience to these orders, some men came 
to rescue Anneslie by taking Katrington off 
from him. But Anneslie begged them not to 
interfere. And when the men had taken Kat- 
rington off, he urged them to place him back 
upon him again as he was before, for he said 
he himself was not hurt at all, and he had no 
doubt that he should gain the victory if they 
would leave him alone. The men, however, 
having the king's order for what they were do- 
ing, paid no heed to Anneslie's requests, but 
proceeded to lead Katrington away. 



44 Margaret of Anjou. 

Katrington's condition. Anneslie's request to the king. 

They found that he was so weak and ex- 
hausted that he could not stand. They led 
him to a chair, and then, taking off his helmet, 
they tried to revive him by bathing his face 
and giving him some wine. 

In the mean time, Anneslie, finding that 
Katrington was taken away, allowed himself 
to be lifted up. When set upon his feet, he 
walked along toward the part of the inclosure 
which was near the king's seat, and begged the 
king to allow the combat to proceed. He said 
he was sure that he should obtain the victory 
if they would but permit him to continue the 
combat to the end. Finally the king and no- 
bles gave their consent, and ordered that An- 
neslie should be placed upon the ground again, 
and Katrington upon him, in the same posi- 
tion, as nearly as possible, as before. 

But on going again to Katrington with a 
view of executing this decree, they found that 
he was in such a condition as to preclude the 
possibility of it. He had fainted and fallen 
down out of his chair in a deadly swoon. He 
seemed not to be wounded, but to be utterly 
exhausted by the heat, the weight of his ar- 
mor, and the extreme violence of the exertion 
which he had made. His friends raised him 
Tip again, and proceeded to unbuckle and take 



Manners and Customs. 45 

Anneslie's rage. The termination of the trial. 

off his armor. Eelieved from this burden, he 
began to come to himself. He opened his ejes 
and looked around, staring with a wild, bewil- 
dered, and ghastly look, which moved the pity 
of all the beholders, that is, of all but Anneslie. 
He, on leaving the king, came to where poor 
Katrington was sitting, and, full of rage and 
hate, began to taunt and revile him, calling 
him traitor, and false, perjured villain, and dar- 
ing him to come out again into the area and 
finish the fight. 

To this Katrington made no answer, but 
stared wildly about with a crazed look, as if he 
did not know where he was or what they were 
doing to him. 

So the farther prosecution of the combat was 
relinquished. Anneslie was declared the vic- 
tor, and poor Katrington was deemed to be 
proved, by his defeat, guilty of the treason 
which had been charged against him. He was 
borne away by his friends, and put into his 
bed. He continued delirious all that night, 
and the next morning at nine o'clock he died. 

Thus was this combat fought, as the ancient 
historian says, to the great rejoicing of the 
common people and the discouragement of 
traitors I 



46 Margaket of Anjou. [1422. 

King Henry's accession. His uncles. 



Chapter III. 
King Henry YI. 

KING HENEY THE SIXTH, who sub- 
sequently became the husband of Mar- 
garet of Anjou, was only about nine months 
old, as has already been said, when he succeed- 
ed to the throne by the death of his father. 
He was proclaimed by the heralds to the sound 
of trumpets and drums, in all parts of London, 
while he was yet an infant in his nurse's arms. 

Of course the question was now who should 
have the rule in England while Henry remain- 
ed a child. And this question chiefly affected 
the little king's uncles, of whom there were 
three — all rude, turbulent, and powerful no- 
bles, such as were briefly described in the last 
chapter. Each of them had a powerful band 
of retainers and partisans attached to his serv- 
ice, and the whole kingdom dreaded greatly 
the quarrels which every one knew were now 
likely to break out. 

The oldest of these uncles was Thomas. He 
was Duke of Exeter. 

The second was John. He was Duke of 
Bedford. 



1422.] King Henry YI. 47 

Division of power. Quarrels. 

The third was Humphrey. He was Duke 
of Gloucester. Thomas and Humphrey seem 
to have been in England at the time of their 
brother the old king's death. John, or Bed- 
ford, as he was commonly called, was in France, 
where he had been pursuing a very renowned 
and successful career, in extending and main- 
taining the English conquests in that country. 

The leading nobles and officers of the gov- 
ernment were assembled in council soon after 
the old king's death, and in order to prevent 
the breaking out of the quarrels which were 
otherwise to have been anticipated between 
these uncles, they determined to divide the 
power as nearly as possible in an equal manner 
among them. So they appointed Thomas, the 
Duke of Exeter, who seems to have been less 
ambitious and warlike in his character than the 
rest, to the charge and custody of the young 
king's person. Humphrey, the Duke of Glou- 
cester, was made Protector of England, and 
John, the Duke of Bedford, the Kegent of 
France. Thus they were all seemingly satis- 
fied. 

But the peace which resulted from this ar- 
rangement did not continue very long. Pretty 
soon a certain Henry Beaufort, a bishop, was 
appointed to be associated with Henry's uncle 



48 Maegaret of Anjou. [1422. 

Beaufort and Gloucester. Progress of the quarrel. 

Thomas in the personal charge of the king. 
This Henry Beaufort was Henry's great-uncle, 
being one of the sons of John of Graunt. He 
was a younger son of his father, and so was 
brought up to the Church, and had been ap- 
pointed Bishop of Winchester, and afterward 
made a cardinal. Thus he occupied a very ex- 
alted position, and possessed a degree of wealth, 
and power, and general consequence little infe- 
rior to those of the grandest nobles in the land. 
He was a man, too, of great capacity, very skill- 
ful in manoeuvring and intriguing, and he im- 
mediately began to form ambitious schemes for 
himself which he designed to carry into effect 
through the power which the custody of the 
young king gave him. ' He was, of course, very 
jealous of the influence and power of the Duke 
of Gloucester, and the Duke of Gloucester be- 
came very jealous of him. It was not long be- 
fore occasions arose which brought the two 
men, and their bands of followers, into direct 
and open collision. 

I can not here go into a full account of the 
particulars of the quarrel. One of the first dif- 
ficulties was about the Tower of London, which 
Beaufort had under his command, and where 
there was a prisoner whom Gloucester wished 
to set at liberty. Then there was a great riot 



1422.] King Henry VI. 49 

Bedford summoned home from France. 

and disturbance on London Bridge, which threw 
the whole city of London into a state of alarm. 
Beaufort alleged that Gloucester had formed a 
plan to seize the person of the king and take 
him away from Beaufort's custody; and that 
he had designs, moreover, on Beaufort's life. 
To defend himself, and to prevent Gloucester 
from coming to the palace where he was resid- 
ing, he seized and fortified the passages leading 
to the bridge. lie built barricades, and took 
down the chains of the portcullis, and assem- 
bled a large armed force to guard the point. 
The people of London were in great alarm. 
They set watches day and night to protect their 
property from the anticipated violence of the 
soldiers and partisans of the combatants, and 
thus all was commotion and fear. Of course 
there were no courts of justice powerful enough 
to control such a contest as this, and finally the 
people sent off a delegation to the Duke of Bed- 
ford in France, imploring him to come to En- 
gland immediately and see if he could not set- 
tle the quarrel. 

The Duke of Bedford came. A Parliament 
was convened, and the questions at issue be- 
tween the two great disputants were brought to 
a solemn trial. The Duke of Gloucester made 
out a series of heavy charges against the cardi' 
• D 



50 Maegaret of Anjou. [1422. 



Death of Bedford. 



nal, and tlie cardinal made a formal reply which 
contained not only his defense, but also counter 
charges against the duke. These papers were 
drawn up with great technicality and ceremony 
by the lawyers employed on each side to man- 
age the case, and were submitted to the Duke 
of Bedford and to the Parliament. A series of 
debates ensued, in which the friends of the two 
parties respectively brought criminations and re- 
criminations against each other without end. 
The result was, as is usual in such cases, that 
both sides appeared to have been to blame, and 
in order to settle the dispute a sort of compro- 
mise was effected, with which both parties pro- 
fessed to be satisfied, and a reconciliation, or 
what outwardly appeared to be such, was made. 
A new division of powers and prerogatives be- 
tween Gloucester, as Protector of England, and 
Beaufort, as custodian of the king, was ar- 
ranged, and peace being thus restored, Bedford 
went back again to France. 

Things went on tolerably well after this for 
many years ; that is, there were no more open 
outbreaks, though the old jealousy and hatred 
between Gloucester and the cardinal still con- 
tinued. The influence of the Duke of Bedford 
held both parties in check as long as the duke 
lived. At length, however, when the young 



1422.] King Henry YI. 51 

Anecdote. Generosity of the French king. 

king was about fourteen years old, the Duke of 
Bedford died. He was in France at tlie time 
of his death. He was buried with great pomp 
and ceremony in the city of Kouen, which had 
been in. some sense the head-quarters of his do- 
minion in that country, and a splendid monu- 
ment was erected over his tomb. 

A curious anecdote is related of the King 
of France in relation to this tomb. Some time 
after the tomb was built Eouen fell into the 
hands of the French, and some persons pro- 
posed to break down the monument which had 
been built in memory of their old enemy ; but 
the King of France would not listen to the 
proposal. 

" What honor shall it be to us," said he, " or 
to you, to break down the monument, or to 
pull out of the ground the dead bones of him 
whom, in his life, neither my father nor your 
progenitors, with all their power, influence, and 
friends, were ever able to make flee one foot 
backward, but who, by his strength, wit, and 
policy, kept them all at bay. Wherefore I 
say, let God have his soul ; and for his body, 
let it rest in peace where they have laid it." 

When King Henry was old enough to be 
crowned, in addition to the English part of the 
ceremony, he went to France to receive the 



52 Margaret of Anjou. [1422. 

Coronation of the young king in France. Curious pageants. 



crown of tliat country too. The ceremony, as 
is usual with the French kings, was performed 
at the town of St. Denis, near Paris, where is 
an ancient royal chapel, in which all the great 
religious ceremonies connected with the French 
monarchy have been performed. A very cu- 
rious account is given by the ancient chroni- 
clers of the pageants and ceremonies which 
were enacted on this occasion. The king pro- 
ceeded into France and journeyed to St. Denis 
at the head of a grand cavalcade of knights, 
nobles, and men-at-arms, amounting to many 
thousand men, all of whom were adorned with 
dresses and trappings of the most gorgeous de- 
scription. At St. Denis the authorities came 
out to meet the king, dressed in robes of ver- 
milion, and bearing splendid banners. The 
king was presented, as he passed through the 
gates, " with three crimson hearts, in one of 
which were two doves; in another, several 
small birds, which were let fly over his head ; 
while the third was filled with violets and 
flowers, which were thrown over the lords 
that attended and followed him." 

At the same place, too, a company of the 
principal civic dignitaries of the town appeared, 
bearing a gorgeous canopy of blue silk, adorned 
and embroidered in the most beautiful manner 



U22.] King Henry YL 53 

Curious pageants. The coronation, 

with, royal emblems. This canopy they held 
over the king as he advanced into the town. 

At one place farther on, where there was a 
little bridge to be crossed, there was a pageant 
of three savages fighting about a woman in a 
mimic forest. The savages continued fighting 
until the king had passed by. Next came a 
fountain flowing witli wine, with mermaids 
swimming about in it. The wine in this fount- 
ain was free to all who chose to come and 
drink it. 

Then, farther still, the royal party came to 
a place where an artificial forest had been made, 
by some means or other, in a large, open square. 
There was a chase going on in this forest at the 
time when the king went by. The chase con- 
sisted of a living stag hunted by real dogs. 
The stag came and took refuge at the feet of 
the king's horse, and his majesty saved the 
poor animal's life. 

Thus the king was conducted to his palace. 
Several days were spent in preliminary pa- 
geants and ceremonies like the above, and then 
the coronation took place in the church, the 
king and his party being stationed on a large 
platform raised for the purpose in the most 
conspicuous part of the edifice. 

After the coronation there was a grand ban- 



54 



Margaret of Anjou. [1441. 



The banquet. 



Picture of the king. 



quet, at which the king, with his lords and 
great officers of state, sat at a marble table in 
a magnificent ancient hall. Henry Beaufort, 
the Bishop of Winchester, was the principal 
personage in all these ceremonies next to the 
king. Gloucester was very jealous of him, in 
respect to the conspicuous part which he took 
in these proceedings. 

Henry was quite young at the time of his cor- 
onations. He was a very pretty boy, and his 
countenance wore a mild and gentle expression. 




HENKY VI. IN UI8 YOUTH. 



1441.] King Henry VI. 57 

The old quarrel broke out again. The duchess's penance. 

The quarrel between the Duke of Gloucester 
and the bishop was kept, in some degree, sub- 
dued during this period, partly by the influence 
of the Duke of Bedford while he lived, and 
partly by Gloucester's mind being taken up to 
a considerable extent with other things, espe- 
cially with his campaigns in France; for he 
was engaged during the period of the king's 
minority in many important military expedi- 
tions in that country. At length, however, he 
came back to England, and there, when the 
king was about twenty years of age, the quar- 
rel between him and the bishop's party broke 
out anew. The king himself was, however, 
now old enough to take some part in such a 
difficulty, and so both sides appealed to him. 
Gloucester made out a series of twenty -four ar- 
ticles of complaint against the bishop. The 
bishop, on the other hand, accused the duke 
of treason, and he specially charged that his 
wife had attempted to destroy the life of the 
king by witchcraft. The duchess was con- 
demned on this charge, and it is said that, by 
way of penance, she was sentenced to walk 
barefoot through the most public street in Lon- 
don with a lighted taper in her hand. Some 
other persons, who were accused of being ac- 
complices in this crime, were put to death. 



68 Makgaret of Anjou. [1441. 

Witchcraft. Position ot the king. Scheme formed by Beaufort. 

The witchcraft which it was said these per- 
sons practiced was that of making a waxen 
image of the king, and then, after connecting 
it with him in some mysterious and magical 
way by certain charms and incantations, melt- 
ing it away by degrees before a slow fire, by 
which means the king himself, as was sup- 
posed, would be caused to pine and wither 
away, and at last to die. -It was universally 
believed in those days that this could be done. 

Of course, such proceedings as these only em- 
bittered the quarrel more and more, and Glou- 
cester became more resolute and determined 
than ever in prosecuting his intrigues for de- 
priving the bishop of influence, and for getting 
the power into his own hands. The king, 
though he favored the cardinal, was so quiet 
and gentle in his disposition, and so little dis- 
posed to take an active part in such a quarrel, 
that the bishop could not induce him to act as 
decidedly as he wished. So he finally con- 
ceived the idea of finding some very intelligent 
and capable princess as a wife for the king, hop- 
ing to increase the power which he exercised 
in the realm through his influence over her. 

The lady that he selected for this purpose 
was Margaret of Anjou. 



1420.] Margaret's Parents. 59 

Provinces of France, Great families. 



Chapter IY. 
Margaret's Father and Mother. 

IIST former times, the territory whicli now con- 
stitutes France was divided into a great 
number of separate provinces, each of which 
formed almost a distinct state or kingdom. 
These several provinces were the possessions 
of lords, dukes, and barons, who ruled over 
them, respectively, like so many petty kings, 
with almost absolute sway, though they all ac- 
knowledged a general allegiance to the kings 
of France or of England. The more northern 
provinces pertained to England. Those in the 
interior and southern portions of the country 
were under the dominion of France. 

The great families who held these provinces 
as their possessions ruled over them in a very 
lordly manner. They regarded not only the 
territory itself which they held, but the right to 
govern the inhabitants of it as a species of prop- 
erty, which was subject, like any other estate, 
to descend from parent to child by hereditary 
right, to be conveyed to another owner by 
treaty or surrender, to be assigned to a bride 



60 Margaret of Anjou. [1420. 

Anjou. King Kene. Lorraine. 

as her marriage portion, or to be disposed of in 
any other way that the lordly proprietors might 
prefer. These great families took ther names 
from the provinces over which they ruled. 

One of these provinces was Anjou.* The 
father of Margaret, the subject of this history, 
was a celebrated personage named Eegnier or 
Eene, commonly called King Bene. He was a 
younger son of the family which reigned over 
Anjou. It is from this circumstance that our 
heroine derives the name by which she is gen- 
erally designated — Margaret of Anjou. The 
reason why her father was called King Bene 
will appear in the sequel. 

Another of the provinces of France above 
referred to was Lorraine. Lorraine was a large, 
and beautiful, and very valuable country, situ- 
ated toward the eastern part of France. Anjou 
was considerably to the westward of it. 

The name of the Duke of Lorraine at this 
time was Charles. He had a daughter named 
Isabella. She was the heiress to all her father's 
possessions. She was a young lady of great 
beauty, of high spirit, of a very accomplished 
education, according to the ideas of those times. 
When Eene was about fourteen years old a 
match was arranged between him and Isabella, 

* See map at the eommencement of the vokime. 



1429.] Margaret's Parents. 61 

Marriage of liene to Isabella. Birth of Margaret. Theophanie. 

who was then only about ten. The marriage 
was celebrated with great parade, and the 
youthful pair went to reside at a palace called 
Pont a Mousson, in a grand castle which was 
given to Isabella by her father as a bridal gift 
at the time of her marriage. Here it was ex- 
pected that they would live until the death of 
her father, when they were to come into pos- 
session of the whole province of Lorraine. 

In process of time, while living at this castle, 
Eene and Isabella had several children. Mar- 
garet was the fifth. She was born in 1429. 
Her birthday was March 23. 

The little infant was put under the charge 
of a family nurse named Theophanie. Theo- 
phanie was a long- tried and very faithful do- 
mestic. She was successively the nurse to all 
of Isabella's children, and the family became so 
much attached to her that when she died Eene 
caused a beautiful monument to be raised to 
her memory. This monument contained a 
sculptured image of Theophanie, with two of 
the children in her arms. 

Yery soon after her birth Margaret was bap- 
tized with great pomp in the Cathedral in the 
town of Toul. A large number of relatives of 
high rank witnessed, and took part in the cere- 
mony. 



62 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1431. 

IsabeUa's uncle Antoine. Cooflict for the possession of Lorraine. 

When at length Charles, Duke of Lorraine, 
Isabella's father, died, and the province should 
have descended to Isabella and Een^, there sud- 
denly appeared another claimant, who thought, 
not that he had a better right to the province 
than Isabella, but that he had more power to 
seize and hold it than she, even with all the aid 
that her husband Bene could afford her. This 
claimant was Isabella's uncle, the younger 
brother of Duke Charles who had just died. 
His name was Antoine de Yaudemonte, or, as 
it would be expressed in English, Anthony of 
Yaudemont. This uncle, on the death of Isa- 
bella's father, determined to seize the duchy for 
himself, instead of allowing it to descend to Is- 
abella, the proper heir, who, being but a wom- 
an, was looked upon with very little respect. 
"Lorraine," he said, "was too noble and valu- 
able a fief to descend in the family on the spin- 
dle side." 

So he collected his adherents and retainers, 
organized an army, and took the field. Isa- 
bella, on the other hand, did all in her power 
to induce the people of the country to espouse 
her cause. Eene took the command of the 
forces which were raised in her behalf, and 
went forth to meet Antoine. Isabella herself, 
taking the children with her, went to the city 



1431.] Margaret's Parents. 63 

The battle. Eene wounded and made prisoner. 

of JSTancy* — wliich was then, as now, the chief 
city of Lorraine, and was consequently the 
safest place for her-^intending to await there 
the result of the conflict. Little Margaret was 
at this time about two years old. 

The battle was fought at a place called 
Bulgneville, and the fortune of war, as it 
would seem, turned in this case against the 
right, for Kene's party were entirely defeated, 
and he himself was wounded and taken pris- 
oner. He fought like a lion, it is said, as long- 
as he remained unharmed ; but at last he re- 
ceived a desperate wound on his brow, and 
the blood from this wound ran down into his 
eyes and blinded him, so that he could do no 
more ; and he was immediately seized by the 
men who had wounded him, and made prison- 
er. The person who thus wounded and cap- 
tured him was the squire of a certain knight 
who had espoused the cause of Antoine, named 
the Count St. Pol. 

In the mean time Isabella had remained at 
Nancy with the children, in a state of the ut- 
most suspense and anxiety, awaiting the result 

* The position of Nancy, as well as the situation of the 
two provinces of Anjou and Lorraine, which are now depart- 
ments of France, may be seen by referring to any good map 
of that country, or to that at the commencement of this vol- 
ume. 



64 Margaret of Akjou. [1431.1 

Isabella's terror and distress. Heavy tidings. Sympathy for Isabella. 

of a conflict on which depended the fate of I 
every thing that was valuable and dear to her. J 
At length, at the window of the tower where': 
she was watching, with little Margaret in her ' 
arms, for the coming, of a herald from her has- 
band to announce his victory, her heart sank 
within her to see, instead of a messenger of 
joy and triumph, a broken crowd of fugitives, 
breathless and covered with dust and blood, 
suddenly bursting into view, and showing too 
plainly by their aspect of terror and distress 
that all was lost. Isabella was overwhelmed 
with consternation at the sight. She clasped 
little Margaret closely in her arms, exclaiming 
in tones of indescribable agony, " My husband 
is killed ! my husband is killed !" 

Her distress and anguish were somewhat 
calmed by the fugitives assuring her, when 
they arrived, that her husband was safe, though 
he had been wounded and taken prisoner. 

There was a great deal of sympathy felt for 
Isabella in her distress by all the people of 
Nancy. She was very young and very beau- 
tiful. Her children, and especially Margaret, 
were very beautiful too, and this greatly in 
creased the compassion which the people were 
disposed to feel for her. Isabella's mother was 
strongly inclined to make new efforts to raise 



1431.] Margaret's Parents. 67 



Isabella's intei-view with her uncle. Negotiations for peace. 

an army, in order to meet and fight ^ntoine 
again ; but Isabella herself, who was now more 
concerned for the safety of her husband than 
for the recovery of her dominions, was disposed 
to pursue a conciliatory course. So she sent 
word to her uncle that she wished to see him, 
and entreated him to grant her an interview. 
Antoine acceded to her request, and at the in- 
terview Isabella begged her uncle to make 
peace with her, and to give her back her hus- 
band. 

Antoine said that it was out of his power to 
liberate Eene, for he had delivered him to the 
custody of the Duke of Burgundy, who had 
been his ally in the war, and the duke had 
conveyed him away to his castle at Dijon, and 
shut him up there, and that now he would 
probably not be willing to give him up with- 
out the payment of a ransom. He said, how- 
ever, that he was willing to make a truce with 
Isabella for six months, to give time to see 
what arrangement could be made. 

This truce was agreed upon, and then, at 
length, after a long negotiation, terms of peace 
were concluded. Eene was to pay a large sum 
to the Duke of Burgundy for his ransom, and, 
in the mean time, while he was procuring the 
money, he was to leave his two sons in the 



68 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1431 

Hostages. Hard conditions of peace. 

duke's hands as hostages, to be held by the 
duke as security. In respect to Lorraine, An- 
toine insisted, as another of the conditions of 
peace, that Isabella's oldest daughter, Yolante, 
then about nine years old, should be betrothed 
to his son Frederick, so as to combine, in the 
next generation at least, the conflicting claims 
of the two parties to the possession of the ter- 
ritory ; and, in order to secure the fulfillment 
of this condition, Yolante was to be delivered 
immediately to the charge and custody of An- 
toine's wife, the mother of her future husband. 
Thus all of Isabella's children were taken away 
from her except Margaret. And even Marga- 
ret, though left for the present with her moth- 
er, did not escape being involved in the entan- 
glements of the treaty. Antoine insisted that 
she, too, should be betrothed to one of his par- 
tisans ; and, as if to make the case as painful 
and humiliating to Rene and Isabella as possi- 
ble, the person chosen to be her future husband 
was the very Count St. Pol whose squire had 
cut down and captured Rene at the battle of 
Bulgneville. 

These conditions were very hard, but Isabel- 
la consented to them, as it was only by so doing 
that any hope seemed to be opened before her 
of obtaining the release of her husband. And 



1431.] Margaret's Parents. 69 

Bene can not procure the money for his ransom. His long confinement. 

even this hope, in the end, proved delusive. 
Bene found that, notwithstanding all his efforts, 
he could not obtain the money which the duke 
required for his ransom. Accordingly, in order 
to save his boys, whom he had delivered to the 
duke as hostages, he was obliged to return to 
Dijon and surrender himself again a prisoner. 
His parting with his wife and children, before 
going a second time into a confinement to which 
they could now see no end, was heartrending. 
Even little Margaret, who was yet so very 
young, joined from sympathy in the general 
sorrow, and w^ept bitterly when her father went 
away. 

The duke confined his captive in an upper 
room in a high tower of the castle of Dijon, and 
kept him imprisoned there for several years. 
One of the boys was kept with him, but the oth- 
er was set at liberty. All this time Margaret re- 
mained with her mother. She was a very beau- 
tiful and a very intelligent child, and was a great 
favorite with all who knew her. The interest 
which was awakened by her beauty and her 
other personal attractions was greatly increased 
by the general sympathy which was felt for the 
misfortunes of her father, and the loneliness and 
distress of her mother. 

In the mean time, Rene, shut up in the tower 



70 



Margaret of Anjou. [1436. 

His occupations and amusements in prison. . Origin of Kane's royal title. 

at the castle of Dijon, made liimusif as content- 
ed as lie could, and employed his time in various 
peaceful and ingenious occupations. Though 
he had fought well in the battle with Antoine, 
he was, in fact, not at all of a warhke disposi- 
tion. He was very fond of music, and poetry, 
and painting; and he occupied his leisure dur- 
ing his confinement in executing beautiful min- 
iatures and paintings upon glass, after the man- 
ner of those times. Some of these paintings 
remained in the window of a church in Dijon, 
where they were placed soon after Eene paint- 
ed them, for several hundred years. 

It has already been stated that the name hy 
which Margaret's father is commonly desig- 
nated is King Eene. The origin of this royal 
title is now to be explained. He had an older 
brother, who became by inheritance, with Joan- 
na his wife, king and queen of the Two Sicilies, 
that is, of the kingdom consisting of the island 
of Sicily and the territory connected with Na- 
ples on the main land. The brother, at the close 
of his life, designated Eene as his heir. This 
happened in the year 1436, while Eene was still 
in captivity in the castle of Dijon. He could, 
of course, do nothing himself to assert his claims 
to this new inheritance, but Isabella immediate- 
ly assumed the title of Queen of the Two Sici- 



1436.] Margaret's Parents. 71 

Isabella and the children at Taraecon. 

lies for herself, and began at once to make prep- 
aration for proceeding to Italy and taking pos- 
session of the kingdom. 

While maturing her plans, she took up her 
residence for a time at the chateau of Tarascon, 
on the banks of the Eh one, with the two chil- 
dren who remained under her care, namely, her 
son Louis and Margaret. Her other son was 
at Dijon with his father, and the other daugh- 
ter, Yolante, had been given up, as has already 
been said, to the custody of the wife of Antoine, 
with a view of being married, as soon as she 
was old enough, to Antoine's son. 

The children attracted great attention at Ta- 
rascon. Their mother Isabella was by birth a 
lady of very high rank, her family being inti- 
mately connected with the royal family of 
France. She was now, too, by title at least, 
herself a queen. The children were very intel- 
ligent and beautifal, and the misfortunes and 
cruel captivity of their father and brother were 
known and talked of in all the country around. 
So the peasants and their families crowded 
around the chateau to see the children. They 
brought them wreaths of flowers and other vo- 
tive offerings. They sang songs to serenade 
them, and they built bonfires around the walls 
of the chateau at night, to drive away the infec- 



72 Margaeet of Anjou. [1436. 

Witches and the plague. Isabella goes into Italy. 

tion of the plague, which was then prevailing in 
some parts of the countiy, and was exciting con- 
siderable alarm. 

The people of the country believed that this 
plague was produced by magic and witchcraft, 
and there were some poor old women, who came 
with the other peasants to the walls of the cha- 
teau of Tarascon to see the children, who were 
believed to be witches. Afterward the plague 
broke out at Tarascon, and Margaret's mother 
was obliged to go away, taking the children 
with her. The poor women were, however, 
seized and burned at the stake, it being univer- 
sally believed that it was they who had caused 
the plague. 

Isabella's arrangements were now so far ma- 
tured that she went at once into Italy with the 
children, and took up her abode there in the 
town of Capua. Eene still remained in captiv> 
ity, but Isabella caused him to be proclaimed 
King of the Two Sicilies with great pomp and 
parade. At the time of this ceremony, the two 
children, Margaret and her brother, were seated 
beside their mother in a grand state carriage, 
which was lined with velvet and embroidered 
with gold, and in this way they were conveyed 
through the streets of the city. 

After a time Eene was liberated from his 



1436.] Margaret's Parents. 73 

Eeno is at last set free. His temper and dispositiou. 

confinement, and restored to his family, but lie 
did not long enjoy this apparent return of pros- 
perity. His claim to the kingdom of Naples 
was disputed, and, after a conflict, he was ex- 
pelled from the country. In the mean time, the 
English had so far extended their conquests in 
France that both his native province of Anjou, 
and his wife's inheritances in Lorraine, had 
fallen into their hands, so that with all the aris- 
tocratic distinction of their descent, and the 
grandeur of their royal titles, the family were 
now, as it were, without house or home. They 
returned to France, and Isabella, with the chil- 
dren, found refuge from time to time with one 
and another of the great families to which she 
was related, while Eene led a wandering life, be- 
ing reduced often to a state of great destitution. 
He, however, bore his misfortunes with a very 
placid temper, and amused himself, wherever he 
was, with music, poetry, and painting. He was 
so cheerful and good-natured withal that he 
made himself a very agreeable companion, and 
was generally welcome, as a visitor, wherever 
he went. He retained the name of King Eene 
as long as he lived, though he was a king with- 
out a kingdom. At one time he was reduced, 
it is said, to such straits that to warm himself he 
used to walk to and fro in the streets of Mar- 



74 Margaret of Anjou. [1436. 



King Rene's fireside. 



seilles, on the sunny side of the buildings, which 
circumstance gave rise to a proverb long known 
and often quoted in those parts, which desig- 
nated the act of going out into the sun to escape 
from the cold as warming one's self at King 
Eene's fireside. 

Such was the family from which Margaret 
of Anjou sprung. 



1444.] KOYAL COUKTSHIP. 75 

Margaret's talents and accomplishments, Oflftrs <rf marriage. 



Chapter V. 
EoYAL Courtship. 

WHEN Margaret was not more than four- 
teen or fifteen years of age, she began to 
be very celebrated for her beauty and accom- 
phshments, and for the charming vivacity of 
her conversation and her demeanor. She re- 
sided with her mother in different famihes in 
Lorraine and in other parts of France, and was 
sometimes at the court of the Queen of France, 
who was her near relative. All who knew her 
were charmed with her. She was considered 
equally remarkable for her talents and for her 
beauty. The arrangement which had been 
made in her childhood for marrying her to the 
Count of St. Pol was broken off, but several 
other offers were made to her mother for her 
hand, though none of them was accepted. Is- 
abella was very proud of her daughter, and she 
cherished very lofty aspirations in respect to 
her future destiny. She was therefore not at 
all inclined to be in haste in respect to making 
arrangements for her marriage. 

In the mean time, the feud between the un* 



76 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1444. 

state of things in England. Henry's character. Plans of the courto 

cles and relatives of King Henry, in England, 
as related in a preceding chapter, had been go- 
ing on, and was now reaching a climax. The 
leaders of the two rival parties were, as will be 
recollected, Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Win- 
chester, or Cardinal Beaufort, as he was more 
commonly called, who had had the personal 
charge of the king during his minority, on one 
side, and the Duke of Gloucester, Henry's un- 
cle, who had been regent of England during 
the same period, on the other. The king him° 
self was now about twenty-four years of age, 
and if he had been a man of vigor and resolu- 
tion, he might perhaps have controlled the an- 
gry disputants, and by taking the government 
fully into his own hands, have forced them to 
live together in peace under his paramount au- 
thority. But Henry was a very timid and fee- 
ble-minded man. The turbulence and impetu- 
ousness of his uncles and their partisans in their 
quarrel was altogether too great for any control 
that he could hope to exercise over them. In- 
deed, the great question with them was which 
should contrive the means of exercising the 
greatest control over him. 

In order to accomplish this end, both parties 
began, very early to plan and manoeuvre with a 
view of choosing the king a wife. Whichever 



1444.] KoYAL Courtship. 77 

Princes and kings. Their matrimonial plans. Embairassmants. 

of the two great leaders should succeed in ne- 
gotiating the marriage of the king, they knew 
well would, by that very act, establish his in- 
fluence at court in the most absolute manner. 

Princes and kings in those days, as, indeed, 
is the case to a considerable extent now, had 
some peculiar dif&culties to contend with in 
making their matrimonial arrangements, so far 
at least as concerned the indulgence of any per- 
sonal preferences which they might themselves 
entertain on the subject. Indeed, these arrange- 
ments were generally made for them, while 
they were too young to have any voice or to 
take any part in the question, and nothing was 
left for them but to ratify and carry into effect, 
when they came to years of maturity, what 
their parents, or grand councils of state, had de- 
termined for them when they were children, or 
else to refuse to ratify and confirm it at the 
cost of incurring a vast amount of difficulty 
and political entanglement, and perhaps even 
open and formidable war. 

And even in those cases where the prince or 
king arrived at an age to judge for himself be- 
fore any arrangements were made for him, 
which was the fact in regard to Henry YI., he 
was still very much embarrassed and circum- 
scribed in his choice if he attempted to select a 



78 Maegaret of Anjou. [1444. 

Difficulty of leaving the country. Miniatures. Situation of King Heniy. 

wife for himself He could not visit foreign 
courts and see the princesses there, so as to 
judge for himself who w^ould best please him ; 
for in those days it was very unsafe for person- 
ages of any considerable rank or position to 
visit foreign countries at all, except at the head 
of an army, and in a military campaign. In 
the case, too, of any actually reigning monarch, 
there was a special difficulty in the way of his 
leaving his kingdom, on account of the feuds 
and quarrels which always in such cases arose 
in making the necessary arrangements for the 
government of the kingdom during his absence. 
For these and various other causes, a king or 
a prince desiring to choose a wife was obliged 
to content himself with such information relat- 
ing to the several candidates as he could ob- 
tain from hearsay in respect to their characters, 
and from miniatures and portraits in respect to 
their personal attractions. This was especially 
the case with King Henry YI. Each of the 
two great parties, that of Cardinal Beaufort on 
one hand, and that of the Duke of Gloucester 
on the other, were desirous of being the means 
of finding a bride for the king, and both were 
eagerly looking in all directions, and plotting 
for the accomplishment of this end, and any at- 
tempt of the king to leave the kingdom for any 



14^4.] Royal Couetship. 79 

Plan of the Duke of Gloucester, The three princesses of Armagnac. 

purpose whatever would undoubtedly have 
brought these parties at once to open war. 

The Duke of Gloucester and those who act- 
ed with him fixed their eyes upon three priii^ 
cesses of a certain great family, called the house 
of Armagnac. Their plan was to open nego- 
tiations with this house, and to obtain portraits 
of the three princesses, to be sent to England, 
in order that Henry might take his choice of 
them. Commissioners were appointed to man- 
age the business. They were to open the ne- 
gotiations and obtain the portraits. The car- 
dinal, of course, and his friends were greatly 
interested in preventing the success of this 
plan, though, of course, it was necessary for 
them to be discreet and cautious in manifest- 
ing any open opposition to it in the then pres- 
ent stage of the affair. 

The king was very particular in the instruc- 
tions which he gave to the commissioners in 
respect to the portraits, with a view of secur- 
ing, if possible, perfectly correct and fair repre- 
sentations of the originals. He wished that the 
princesses should not be flattered at all by the 
artist in his delineation of them, and that they 
should not be dressed at their sittings in any 
unusually elegant manner. On the contrary, 
they were to be painted "in their kirtles sim- 



80 Margaret of Anjou. [1444. 

Their portraits. The plan fails. In what way, 

pie, and their visages like as ye see, and their 
stature, and their beauty, and the color of their 
skin, and their countenances, just as they real- 
ly are." The artist was instructed, too, by the 
commissioners to be expeditious in finishing 
the pictures and sending them to England, in 
order that the king might see them as soon as 
possible, and make his choice between the three 
young ladies whose "images" were to be thus 
laid before him. 

This plan for giving the king an opportuni- 
ty to choose between the three princesses of 
Armagnac, nicely arranged as it was in all its 
details, failed of being carried successfully into 
effect; for the father of these princesses, as it 
happened, was at this same time engaged in 
some negotiations with the King of France in 
respect to the marriage of his daughters, and 
he wished to keep the negotiations with Henry 
in suspense until he had ascertained whether 
he could or could not do better in that quarter. 
So he contrived means to interrupt and retard 
the work of the artist, in order to delay for a 
time the finishing of the pictures. 

In the mean time, while the Duke of Glou- 
cester and his party were thus engaged in for- 
warding their scheme of inducing Henry to 
make choice of one of these three princesses for 



1444.] EoYAL Courtship. 81 

The cardinal's scheme. Champchevrier. Champchevrier at court. 



his wife, the cardinal himself was not idle. He 
had heard of the beautifal and accomplished 
Margaret of Anjou, and, after full inquiry and 
reflection, he determined in his own mind to 
make her his candidate for the honor of being 
Queen of England. The manner in which he 
contrived to introduce the subject first to the 
notice of the king was this. 

There was a certain man, named Champ- 
chevrier, who had been taken prisoner in An- 
jou in the course of the wars between France 
and England, and who was now held for ran- 
som by the knight who had captured him. He 
was not, however, kept in close confinement, 
but was allowed to go at large in England on 
his parole — that is, on his word of honor that 
he would not make his escape and go back to 
his native land until his ransom was paid. 

Now this Champchevrier, though a prisoner, 
was a gentleman by birth and education ; and 
while he remained in England, held by his pa- 
role, was admitted to the best society there, 
and he often appeared at court, and frequently 
held converse with the king. In one of these 
interviews he described, in very glowing terms, 
the beauty and remarkable intelligence of Mar- 
garet of Anjou. It is supposed that he was 
induced to this by Cardinal Beaufort, who knew 
F 



82 Margaret of Anjou. [1444. 

His conversations with the king. The king wishes for a picture. 

of Ms acquaintance with Margaret, and who 
contrived the interviews between Champchev- 
rier and the king, in order to give the former 
an opportunity to speak of the lady to his maj- 
esty incidentally, as it were, and in a way not 
to excite the king's suspicions that the com- 
mendations of her which he heard were prompt- 
ed by any match-making schemes formed for 
him by his courtiers. 

If this was the secret plan of the cardinal, it 
succeeded admirably well. The king's curios- 
ity was strongly awakened by the piquant ac- 
counts that Champchevrier gave him of the 
brilliancy of young Margaret's beauty, and of 
her charming vivacity and wit. 

" I should like very much to see a picture 
of the young lady," said the king. 

''I can easily obtain a picture of her for 
your majesty," replied Champchevrier, " if your 
majesty will commission me to go to Lorraine 
for the purpose." 

Champchevrier considered that a commission 
from the king to go to Lorraine on business 
for his majesty would be a suf&cient release for 
him from the obligations of his parole. 

The king finally gave Champchevrier the re- 
quired authority to leave the kingdom. Champ- 
chevrier was not satisfied with a verbal permis- 



1444Q KoYAL Courtship. 83 

Champchevrier's expedition. The Earl of Suffolk. 

sion merely, but required the king to give him 
a regular safe-conduct, drawn up in due form, 
and signed by the king's name. Having re- 
ceived this document, Champchevrier left Lon- 
don and set out upon his journey, the nature 
and object of the expedition being of course 
kept a profound secret. 

A certain nobleman, however, named the 
Earl of Suffolk, was admitted to the confidence 
of the king in this affair, and was by him asso- 
ciated with Champchevrier in the arrangements 
which were to be made for carrying the plan 
into execution. It would seem that he accom- 
panied Champchevrier in his journey to Lor- 
raine, where Margaret was then residing with 
her mother, and there assisted him in making 
arrangements for the painting of the picture. 
They employed one of the first artists in France 
for this purpose. When the work was finish- 
ed, Champchevrier set out with it on his return 
to England. 

In the mean time, the English knight whose 
prisoner Champchevrier was, heard in some way 
that his captive had left England, and had re- 
turned to France, and the intelligence made him 
exceedingly angry. He thought that Champ- 
chevrier had broken his parole and had gone 
home without paying his ransom. Such an 



84 Margar^p of Anjou. [1444. 

Champchevrier in danger. Gloucester writes to the King of France. 

act as this was regarded as extremely dishon- 
orable in those days, and it was, moreover, not 
only considered dishonorable in a prisoner 
himself to break his parole, but also in any 
one else to aid or abet him in so doing, or to 
harbor or protect him after his escape. The 
knight determined, therefore, that he would at 
once communicate with the King of France on 
the subject, explaining the circumstances, and 
asking him to rearrest the supposed fugitive 
and send him back. 

So he went to the Duke of Gloucester, and, 
stating the case to him, asked his grace to 
write to the King of France, informing him 
that Champchevrier had escaped from his pa- 
role, and asking him not to give him refuge, 
but to seize and send him back. Gloucester 
was very willing to do this. It is probable 
that he knew that Champchevrier was a friend 
of the cardinal's, or at least that he was attached 
to his interests, and that it was altogether prob- 
able that his going into France was connected 
with some plot or scheme by which the cardi- 
nal and his party were to derive some advant- 
age. So he wrote the letter, and it was at 
once sent to the King of France. The King 
of France at this time was Charles YII. 

The king, on receiving the letter^ o^ave or- 



1444.] Royal Courtship. 85 



Champchevrier arrested. The whole story comes ont. 

ders immediately that Champchevrier should 
be arrested. Bj this time, however, the paint- 
ing was finished, and Champchevrier was on 
the way with it from Lorraine toward En- 
gland. He was intercepted on his journey, 
taken to Yincennes, and there brought before 
King Charles, and called upon to give an ac- 
count of himself 

Of course he was now obliged to tell the 
whole story. He said that he had not broken 
his parole at all, nor intended in any manner 
to defraud his captor in England of the ransom 
money that was due to him, but had come to 
France hy the orders of the King of England. 
He explained, too, what he had come for, and 
showed Charles the painting which he was 
carrying back to the king. He also, in proof 
of the truth of what he said, produced the safe- 
conduct which King Henry had given him. 

King Charles laughed very heartily at hear- 
ing this explanation, and at perceiving how 
neatly he had discovered the secret of King 
Henry's love affairs. He was much pleased, 
too, with the idea of King Henry's taking a 
fanc}^ to a lady so nearly related to the royal 
family of France. He thought that he might 
make the negotiation of such a marriage the 
occasion for making peace with England on 



SQ Margaret of Anjou. [1444. 



Trouble in court. 



favorable terms. So he dismissed Champcliev- 
rier at once, and recommended to Mm to pro- 
ceed to England as soon as possible, and tbere 
to do all in bis power to induce King Henry 
to cboose Margaret for bis queen. 

Cbampcbevrier accordingly returned to En- 
gland and reported tbe result of bis mission. 
Tbe king was very mucb pleased witb tbe 
painting, and be immediately determined to 
send Cbampcbevrier again to Lorraine on a 
secret mission to Margaret's motber. He first, 
bowever, determined to release Cbampcbevrier 
entirely from bis parole, and so be paid tbe 
ransom bimself for wbicb be bad been beld. 
Tbe Duke of Gloucester watcbed all tbese pro- 
ceedings witb a very jealous eye. Wben be 
found tbat Cbampcbevrier, on bis return to 
England, came at once to tbe king's court, and 
tbat tbere be beld frequent conferences, wbicb 
were full of mystery, witb tbe king and witb 
tbe cardinal, and wben, moreover, be learned 
tbat tbe king bad paid tbe ransom money due 
to tbe knigbt, and tbat Cbampcbevrier was to 
be sent away again, be at once suspected what 
was going on, and tbe wbole court was soon 
in a great ferment of excitement in respect to 
tbe proposed marriage of tbe king to Marga- 
ret of Anjou. 



1444.] EoYAL Courtship. 87 

Gloucester's opposition. ]\Iargaret gains the day. Trace proposed. 

The Duke of Gloucester and his party were, 
of course, strongly opposed to Margaret of An- 
jou ; for they knew well that, as she had been 
brought to the king's notice by the other par- 
ty, her becoming Queen of England would well- 
nigh destroy their hopes and expectations for 
all time to come. The other party acted as de- 
cidedly and vigorously in favor of the marriage. 
There followed a long contest, in which there 
was plotting and counterplotting on one side 
and on the other, and manoeuvres without end. 
At last the friends of the beautiful little Mar- 
garet carried the day; and in the year 1444 
commissioners were formally ajDpointed by the 
governments of England and France to meet 
at the city of Tours at a specified day, to nego- 
tiate a truce between the two countries prepar- 
atory to a permanent peace, the basis and ce- 
ment of which was to be the marriage of King 
Henry with Margaret of Anjou. The truce 
was made for two years, so as to allow full time 
to arrange all the details both for a peace be- 
tween the two countries, and also in respect to 
the terms and conditions of the marriage. 

As soon as the news that this truce was made 
arrived in England, it produced great excite- 
ment. The Duke of Gloucester and those who 
werCj with him, interested to prevent the ac- 



88 Margaret of Anjou. [1444. 

Opposition in England- Violent discussions. 

complishment of the marriage, formed a pow- 
erful political party to oppose it. They did 
not, however, openly object to the marriage it- 
self, thinking that not politic, but directed their 
hostility chiefly against the plan of making 
peace with France jnst at the time, they said, 
when the glory of the English arms and the 
progress of the English power in that country 
were at their height. It was very discredita- 
ble to the advisers of the king, they said, that 
they should counsel him to stop short in the 
career of conquest which his armies were pur- 
suing, and thus sacrifice the grand advantages 
for the realm of England which were just with- 
in reach. 

The discussions and dissensions which arose 
in the court and in Parliament on this subject 
were very violent; but in the end Cardinal 
Beaufort and his party were successful, and the 
king appointed the Earl of Suffolk embassador 
extraordinary to the court of France to nego- 
tiate the terms and conditions of the permanent 
peace which was to be made between the two 
countries, and also of the marriage of the king. 
At first Sufiblk was very unwilling to under- 
take this embassy. He feared that, in order 
to carry out the king's wishes, he should be 
obliged to make such important concessions tg 



1444 


:•] 


E 


OYAL 


c 


OUETSHIP. 


89 


Suffolk 


is ; 


alarmed. 








His safe-conduct. 



France that, at some future time, when perhaps 
the party of the Duke of Gloucester should 
come into power, he might be held responsible 
for the measure, and be tried and condemned, 
perhaps, for high treasoUj in having been the 
means of sacrificing the interests and honor of 
the kingdom by advising and negotiating a dis- 
honorable peace. These fears of his were prob- 
ably increased by the intensity of the excite- 
ment which he perceived in the Gloucester 
party, and perhaps, also, by open threats and 
demonstrations which they may have uttered 
for the express purpose of intimidating him. 

At any rate, after receiving the appointment, 
his courage failed him, and he begged the king 
to excuse him from performing so dangerous a 
commission. The king was, however, very un- 
willing to do so. Finally, it was agreed that 
the king should give the earl his written order, 
executed in due and solemn form, and signed 
with the great seal, commanding him, on the 
royal authority, to undertake the embassage. 
Suffolk relied on this document as his means 
of defense from all legal responsibility for his 
action in case his enemies should at any future 
time have it in their power to bring him to trial 
for it. 

In negotiating the peace, and in arranging 



90 



Margaeet of Anjou. [1444. 



Various difficulties and objections. 



the terms and conditions of the marriage, a 
great many difficulties were found to be in the 
way, but they were all at last overcome. One 
of these difficulties was made by King Eene, 
the father of Margaret. He declared that he 
could not consent to give his daughter in mar- 
riage to the King of England unless the king 
would first restore to him and to his family the 
province of Anjou, which had been the posses- 
sion of his ancestors, but which King Henry's 
armies had overrun and conquered. The Earl 
of Suffi)lk was very unwilling to cede back this 
territory, for he knew very well that nothing 
would be so unpopular in England, or so like- 
ly to increase the hostility of the English peo- 
ple to the proposed marriage, and consequently 
to give new life and vigor to the Gloucester 
party in their opposition to it, as the giving up 
again of territory which the English troops had 
won by so many hard-fought battles and the 
sacrifice of so many lives. But Eene was in- 
flexible, and Sufiblk finally yielded, and so An- 
jou was restored to its former possessors. 

Another objection which Eene made was 
that his fortune was not sufficient to enable him 
to endow his daughter properly for so splendid 
a marriage ; not having the means, he said, of 
sending her in a suitable manner into England. 



1444.] EoYAL Courtship. 91 

The king askg no dowry. The king has a rival. Margaret's wishes. 

But this the King of England said should 
make no difference. All that he asked was 
the hand of the princess without any dowry. 
Uer personal charms and mental endowments 
were sufi&cient to outweigh all the riches in the 
world ; and if her royal father and mother would 
grant her to King Henry as his bride, he would 
not ask to receive with her "either penny or 
farthing." 

King Henry was made all the more eager to 
close the negotiations for the marriage as soon 
as possible, and to consent to almost any terms 
which the King of France and Eene might ex- 
act, from the fact that there was a young prince 
of the house of Burgundy — a very brave, hand- 
some, and accomplished man — who was also a 
suitor for Margaret's hand, and was very de- 
votedly attached to her. This young prince 
was in France at this time, and ready, at any 
moment, to take advantage of any difficulty 
which might arise in the negotiations with 
Henry to press his claims, and, perhaps, to car- 
ry off the prize. Which of the two candidates 
Margaret herself would have preferred there is 
no means of knowing. She was yet only about 
fifteen years of age, and was completely in the 
power and at the disposal of her father and 
mother. And then the political and family in- 



92 Margaret of Anjou. [1444. 



The affair finally settled. 



terests whicli were at stake in the decision of 
the question were too vast to allow of the per- 
sonal preferences of the young girl herself be- 
ing taken much into the account. 

At last every thing was arranged, and Suf- 
folk returned to England, bringing with him 
the treaty of peace and the contract of mar- 
riage, to be ratified by the king's council and 
by Parliament. A new contest now ensued be- 
tween the Gloucester and Beaufort parties. The 
king, of course, threw all his influence on the 
cardinal's side, and so the treaty and the con- 
tract carried the day. Both were ratified. The 
Earl of Suffolk, as a reward for his services, 
was made a marquis, and he was appointed the 
king's proxy to proceed to France and espouse 
the bride in the king's name, according to the 
usual custom in the case of royal marriages. 



1444.] The Wedding. 93 

preparations for the Avedding. Excitement. 



P 



Chapter VI. 

The Wedding. 

iREPAEATIONS were now immediately 
made for solemnizing the marriage and 
bringing the young queen at once to England. 
The marriage ceremony by which a foreign 
princess was united to a reigning prince, ac- 
cording to the custom of those times, was two- 
fold, or, rather, there were two distinct cere- 
monies to be performed, in one of which the 
bride, at her father's own court, was united to 
her future husband by proxy, and in the sec- 
ond the nuptials were celebrated anew with 
her husband himself in person, after her ar- 
rival in his kingdom. Suffolk, as was stated 
in the last chapter, was appointed to act as the 
king's proxy in this case, for the performance 
of the first of these ceremonies. He was to 
proceed to France, espouse the bride in the 
king's name, and convey her to England. Of 
course a universal excitement now spread it- 
self among all the nobility and among all the 
ladies of the court, which was awakened by the 
interest which all took in the approaching wed- 



94 Maegaret of Anjou. [1444. 

Dresses. Company. King and Queen of France. 

ding, and the desire they felt to accompany the 
expedition. 

A great many of the lords and ladies began 
to make preparations to join Lord and Lady 
Suffolk. Nothing was talked of but dresses, 
equipments, presents, invitations, and every 
body was occupied in the collecting and pack- 
ing of stores and baggage for a long journey. 
At length the appointed time arrived, and the 
expedition set out, and, after a journey of many 
days, the several parties which composed it ar- 
rived at Nancy, the capital city of Lorraine, 
where the ceremony was to be performed. 

At about the same time, the King and Queen 
of France, accompanied by a great concourse 
of nobles and gentlemen from the French court, 
who were to honor the wedding with their 
presence, arrived. A great many other knights 
and ladies, too, from the provinces and castles 
of the surrounding country, were seen coming 
in gay and splendid cavalcades to the town, 
when the appointed day drew nigh, eager to 
witness the ceremony, and to join in the mag- 
nificent festivities which they well knew would 
be arranged to commemorate and honor the oc- 
casion. In a word, the whole town became one 
brilliant scene of gayety, life, and excitement. 

The marriage ceremony was performed in 



1444.] The Wedding. 95 

The marriage ceremony is performed. Tlie bride's household. 

the church, with great pomp and parade, and in 
the midst of a vast concourse of people, com- 
posed of the highest nobility of Europe, both 
lords and ladies, and all dressed in the most 
magnificent . and distinguished costumes. No 
spectacle could possibly be more splendid and 
gay. At the close of the ceremony, the bride 
was placed solemnly in charge of Lady Suffolk, 
who was to be responsible for her safety and 
welfare until she should arrive in England, and 
there be delivered into the hands of her hus- 
band. Lady Suffolk was a cousin of Cardinal 
Beaufort, and she undoubtedly received this 
very exalted appointment through his favor. 
The appointment brought with it a great deal 
of patronage and influence, for a regular and 
extended household was now to be organized 
for the service of the new queen, and of course, 
among all the lords and ladies who had come 
from England, there was a very eager competi- 
tion to obtain places in it. There are enumer- 
ated among those who were appointed to posts 
of service or honor in attendance on the queen, 
under the Marchioness of Suffolk, five barons 
and baronesses, seventeen knights, sixty-five 
squires, and no less than one hundred and sev- 
enty-four valets, besides many other servitors, 
all under pay. Then, in addition to these, so 



96 



Maegaeet of Anjou. [1444. 



^^"^^P^^^^- Tournament. 



great was the eagerness to occupy some recog- 
nized station in the train of the bride, that great 
numbers applied for appointments to nominal 
offices for which they were to receive no pay. 

If Eene, Margaret's father, had been possess- 
ed of a fortune corresponding to his rank, the 
expense of all these arrangements, at least up to 
the time of the departure of the bridal party, 
would have been defrayed by him; but as it 
was, every thing was paid for by King Henry, 
and the precise amount of every expenditure 
stands recorded in certain old books of accounts 
which still remain among the ancient English 
archives. 

The nuptials of the princess were celebrated, 
by a tournament and other accompanying fes- 
tivities, which were continued for eight days. 
In these tournaments a great many mock com- 
bats were fought, in which the most exalted 
personages present on the occasion took con- 
spicuous and prominent parts. The King of 
France himself appeared in the lists, and fought 
with Eene, the father of the bride. The king 
was beaten. It would have been impolite for 
any one to have vanquished the father of the 
bride at a tournament held in honor of the 
daughter's nuptials. The Count St. Pol, too, 
who had formerly been betrothed to Marj^aret, 



1444.] The Wedding. 97 

The victors in the games. Romantic incident. 

but had not been allowed to marry her, fought 
very successfully, and won a valuable prize, 
which was conferred upon him with great cer- 
emony by the hands of the two most distin- 
guished ladies present, namely, the Queen of 
France and Isabella of Lorraine, the bride's 
mother. Perhaps he too was politely allowed 
to win his victory and his honorary prize, in 
consideration of his submitting so quietly to 
the loss of the real prize which his great com- 
petitor, the King of England, was so triumph- 
antly bearing away from him. 

The celebrations of the eight days were in- 
terrupted and enlivened by one remarkable 
incident, which for a time threatened to pro- 
duce very serious difficult}^ It wdll be re- 
membered that when the original contract and 
treaty were made between Kene and the uncle 
of Isabella, Antoine of Yaudemonte, at the 
time when peace was re-established between 
them, after the battle in which Kene was taken 
prisoner, that not only was it agreed that Mar- 
garet should be betrothed to the Count St. Pol, 
but also that Yolante, Margaret's elder sister, 
was betrothed to Antoine's son Ferry, as he 
was called.* Kow Ferry seemed not disposed 
to submit quietly, as St. Pol had done, to the 
* The name was a contraction of Frederick. 

G 



98 Margaket OF Anjou. [14-i4. i 

Grand elopement. The parents finally appeased. I 

loss of Ms bride, and as he had never thus far i 
been able to induce Rene and Isabella to fulfill i 
their agreement by consenting to the consum- 
mation of the marriage, he determined now to 
take the matter into his own hands. So he 
formed the scheme of an elopement. His plan 
was to take advantage of the excitement and 
confusion attendant on the tournament for car- 
rying ofP his bride. He organized a band of 
adventurous young knights who were willing 
to aid him in his enterprise, and, laying his 
plans secretly and carefully, he, assisted by his 
comrades, seized the young lady and galloped 
away with her to a place of safety, intending 
to keep her there in his own custody until 
King Eene and her mother should consent to 
her immediate marriage. King Rene, when he 
first heard of his daughter's abduction, was 
very angry, and declared that he would never 
forgive either Ferry or Yolante. But the King 
and Queen of France interceded for the lovers, 
and Rene at last relented. Ferry and Yolante 
were married, and all parties were made friends 
again, after which the celebrations and festivi- 
ties were renewed with greater spirit and ardor 
than before. 

At length the time for the conclusion of the 
public rejoicings at Nancy, and for the com- 



1444.] The Wedding. 99 

Margaret takes leave of lier friends. Setting out of the procession. 

mencement of Margaret's journey to England, 
arrived. Thus far, though nominally under 
the care and keeping of Lord and Lady Suf- 
folk, Margaret had of course been really most 
intimately associated with her own family and 
friends ; but now the time had come when she 
was to take a final leave of her father and 
mother, and of all whom she had known and 
loved from infancy, and be put really and fully 
into the trust and keeping of strangers, to be 
taken by them to a distant and foreign land. 
The parting was very painful. It seems that 
Margaret's beauty and the charming vivacity 
of her manners had made her universally be- 
loved, and the hearts not only of her fiither 
and. mother, but of the whole circle of those 
who had known her, were filled with grief at 
the thought of parting with her forever. 

The King and Queen of France, who seem 
to have loved their niece with sincere affection, 
determined to accompany her for a short dis- 
tance, as she set out on her journey from Nan- 
cy. Gf course, many of the courtiers went too. 
These, together with the great number of En- 
glish nobles and gentry that were attached to 
the service of the bride, made so large a com- 
pany, and the dresses, caparisons, and trap- 
pings which were exhibited on the occasion 



100 Margaeet of Anjou. [1444. 

Parting with the King and Queen of France. Margaret's parents. 

were so splendid and fine, that the cavalcade, 
as it set out from the city of Nancy on the 
morning when the journey was to commence, 
formed one of the gayest and grandest bridal 
processions that the world has ever seen. 

After proceeding for five or six miles the 
procession came to a halt, in order that the 
King and Queen of France might take their 
leave. The parting filled the hearts of their 
majesties with grief The king clasped Marga- 
ret again and again in his arms when he bade 
her farewell, and told her that in placing her, 
as he had done, upon one of the greatest thrones 
in Europe, it seemed to him, after all, that he 
had really done nothing for her, "for even such 
a throne is scarcely worthy of you, my darling 
child," said he. In saying this his eyes filled 
with tears. The queen was so overwhelmed 
with emotion that she could not speak; but, 
kissing Margaret again and again amid her sob- 
bings and tears, she finally turned from her and 
was borne away. 

Margaret's father and mother did not take 
their leave of her at this place, but went on 
with her two days' journey, as far as to the 
town of Bar le Due, which was near the fron- 
tiers of Lorraine. Here they, too, at last took 
their leave, though their hearts were so full, 



1444.] The Wedding. 101 

The bride's new friends. The vessel. 

when the moment of final parting came, that 
they could not speak, but bade their child fare- 
well with tears and caresses, unaccompanied 
with any words whatever of farewell. 

Still Margaret was not left entirely alone 
among strangers when her father and mother 
left her. One of her brothers, and some other 
friends, were to accompany her to England. 
She had, moreover, by this time become well 
acquainted with the Marquis and Marchioness 
of Suffolk, under whose charge and protection 
she was now traveling, and she had become 
strongly attached to them. They were both 
considerably advanced in life, and were grave 
and quiet in their demeanor, but they were very 
kind and attentive to Margaret in every respect, 
and they made every effort in their power to 
console the grief that she felt at parting with her 
parents and friends, and leaving her native land, 
and they endeavored in every way to make the 
journey as comfortable and as agreeable as pos- 
sible to her. 

During all this time a vessel, which had been 
dispatched from England for the purpose, was 
waiting at a certain port on the northern coast 
of France called Kiddelaws, ready to take the 
queen and her bridal train across the Channel. 
The distance from Nancy to this port was very 



102 MARaARET OF Anjou. [1444 

Causes of delay. Henry's want of money. 

considerable, and the means and facilities for 
traveling enjoyed in those days were so imper- 
fect that a great deal of time was necessarily 
employed on the journey. Besides this, a long 
delay was occasioned by the want of funds. 
King Henry had himself agreed to defray all 
the expenses of the marriage, and also of the 
progress of the bridal party through France to 
England. These expenses were necessarily 
great, and it happened at this time that the king 
was in very straitened circumstances in respect 
to funds. He was greatly embarrassed, too, in 
the efforts which he made to procure money, by 
the difficulties which were thrown in his way 
by the party of the Duke of Gloucester, who 
resisted by every means in their power all ac- 
tion of Parliament tending to furnish the king's 
treasury with money, and thus promote the 
final accomplishment of the marriage. 

In consequence of all these difficulties and 
delays, it was nearly three months from the 
time when the bridal ceremony was performed 
at ISTancy before Margaret was ready to embark 
for England in the vessel that awaited her at 
Kiddelaws. 

It was not merely for the expenses of the 
journey through France of Margaret and her 
train that Henry had to provide. On her ar- 



U44.] The Wedding. 103 

Expenses to be incurred in England. Passage across the ChanneL 

rival in England there was to be a grand recep- 
tion, which, would require many costly equi- 
pages, and the giving of many entertainments. 
Then, moreover, the marriage ceremony was to 
be performed anew, and in a far more pompous 
and imposing manner than before, and after the 
marriage a coronation, with all the attendant fes- 
tivities and celebrations. All these things in- 
volved great expense, and Margaret could not 
come into -the kingdom until the preparations 
were made for the whole. To such straits was 
the king reduced in his efforts to raise the mon- 
ey which he deemed necessary for the proper 
reception of his bride, that he was obliged to 
pledge a large portion of the crown jewels, and 
also of the family plate and other personal prop- 
erty of that kind. A considerable part of the 
property so pledged was never redeemed. 

At length, however, things were so far in 
readiness that orders arrived for the sailing of 
the expedition. The party accordingly em- 
barked, and the vessel sailed. They crossed 
the Channel, and entered Portsmouth harbor, 
and finally landed at the town of Porchester, 
which is situated at the head of the harbor. 
The voyage was not very agreeable. The ves- 
sel was small, and the Channel in this place is 
wide, and Margaret was so sick during the pas- 



104 Makoaket OF Anjou. [1444. 

Rough weather. Margaret's reception. Passage to Southampton. 

sage, and became so entirely exhausted, that 
when the vessel reached the port she could not 
stand, and Suffolk carried her to the shore in 
his arms. 

The boisterous weather which had attended 
the party during their voyage increased till it 
ended in a dreadful storm of thunder, light- 
ning, and rain, which burst over the town of 
Porchester just at the time while the party were 
landing. The people, however, paid no atten- 
tion to the storm and rain, but flocked in crowds 
into the streets where the bride was to pass, and 
strewed rushes along the way to make a carpet 
for her. They also filled the air with joyful ac- 
clamations as the procession passed along. In 
this way the royal bride was conveyed through 
the town to a convent in the vicinity, where she 
was to rest for the first night, and prepare for 
continuing her journey to London. 

The next day, the weather having become 
settled and fair, it was arranged that Margaret 
and her party should be conveyed from Por- 
chester to Southampton along the shore in 
barges. The water of this passage is smooth, 
being sheltered every where by the land. The 
barges first moved down Portsmouth harbor, 
..then out into what is called the Solent Sea, 
which is a narrow, sheltered, and beautiful sheet 



1444.] The Wedding. 105 

The queen takes lodgings in a convent. The king. Lichfield Abbey. 

of water, lying between the Isle of Wight and 
the main land, and thence, entering Southamp- 
ton Water, they passed up, a distance of eight 
or ten miles, to the town."^^ 

On the arrival of the queen at Southampton, 
she was conveyed again to a convent in the 
vicinity of the town, for this was before the 
days of hotels. Here she was met by persons 
sent from the king to assist her in respect to 
her farther preparations for appearing at his 
court. Among other measures that were adopt- 
ed, one was the sending a special messenger to 
London to bring an English dressmaker to 
Southampton, in order that suitable dresses 
might be prepared for the bride, to enable hei 
to appear properly in the presence of the En 
glish ladies at the approaching ceremonies. 

In the mean time. King Henry, whom the 
rules of royal etiquette did not allow to join 
the queen until the time should arrive for the 
performance of the second part of the nuptial 
ceremony, came down from London, and took 
up his abode at a place ten or twelve miles dis- 
tant, called Southwick, where he had a palace 
and a park. The nuptials were to be cele- 
brated at a certain abbey called Lichfield Ab- 
bey, which was situated about midway between 

* See Frontispiece. 



106 Margaret of Anjou. [IMS, 

Margaret is seriously sick. Kecovery. The final ceremony, 

Southampton, where the queen was lodged, and 
Southwick, the place of waiting for the king. 
The king had expected that every thing would 
be ready in a few days, but he was destined to 
encounter a new delay. Margaret had scarce- 
ly arrived in Southampton when she was at- 
tacked by an eruptive fever of some sort, re- 
sembling small-pox, which threw all her friends 
into a state of great alarm concerning her. The 
disease, however, proved less serious than was 
at first apprehended, and after a week or two 
the danger seemed to be over. 

During all the time while his bride was thus 
sick Henry remained in great suspense and anx- 
iety at Southwick, being forbidden, by the rigid 
rules of royal etiquette, to see her. 

At length Margaret recovered, and the day 
was appointed for the final celebration of the 
nuptials. When the time arrived, Margaret 
was conveyed in great state, and at the head of 
a splendid cavalcade, to the abbey, and there 
the marriage ceremony was again performed in 
the presence of a great concourse of lords and 
ladies that had come from London and Wind- 
sor, or from their various castles in the country 
around, to be present on the occasion. 

This final ceremony was performed in April, 
1445. Of course, as Margaret was born in 



1445.] The Wedding. 109 

Strange bridal present. The lion sent to the Tower. 

March, 1429, she was at this time sixteen years 
and one month old. 

Amonoj other curious incidents which are re- 
corded in connection with this wedding, there 
is an account of Margaret's receiving, as a. pres- 
ent on the occasion — for a pet, as it were, just 
as at the present day a young bride might re- 
ceive a gift of a spaniel or a canary-bird — a 
lion. It was very common in those times for 
the wealthy nobles to keep such animals as 
these at their castles. They were confined in 
dens constructed for them near the castle walls. 
The kings of England, however, kept their 
lions, when they had any, in the Tower of Lon- 
don, and the practice thus established of keep- 
ing wild beasts in the Tower was continued 
down to a very late period ; so that I remem- 
ber of often reading, when I was a boy, in En- 
glish story-books, accounts of children, when 
they went to London, being taken by their 
parents to see the " lions in the Tower." 

Margaret sent her lion to the Tower. In 
the book of expenses which was kept for this 
famous bridal progress, there is an account of 
the sum of money paid to two men for taking 
care of this lion, feeding him and conveying 
him to London. The amount was £2 55. Scl, 
which is equal to about ten or twelve dollars 



110 Margaret OF Anjou. :il445. 

Margaret continues her journey toward London. Eejoicings. 

of our money. This seems very little for such, 
a service, but it must be remembered that the 
value of money was much greater in those 
times than it is now. 

Immediately after the marriage ceremony 
was completed, the preparations for the journey 
having been all made beforehand, the king 
and queen set out together for London, and it 
soon began to appear that this part of the jour- 
ney was to be more splendid and gay than any 
other. The people of the countrj^, who had 
heard marvelous stories of the youth and beau- 
ty and the early family misfortunes of the 
queen, flocked in crowds along the roadsides 
to get a glimpse of her as she passed, and to 
gaze on the grand train of knights and nobles 
that accompanied her, and to admire the mag- 
nificence of the dresses and decorations which 
were so profusely displayed. Every body came 
wearing a daisy in his cap or in his button^ 
hole, for the daisy was the flower which Mar^ 
garet had chosen for her emblem. At every 
town through which the bride passed she was 
met by immense crowds that thronged all the 
accessible places, and filled the windows, ancl 
in some places covered the roofs of the houses 
and the tops of the walls,' and welcomed her 
with the sound of trumpets, tlie waving of 



1445.] The Wedding. Ill 

The Duke of Gloucester. His plans. His invitation to the queen. 

banners, and with prolonged shouts and ac- 
clamations. 

In the mean time, the Duke of Gloucester, 
who, with his party, had done every thing in 
his power to oppose the marriage, now, finding 
that it was an accomplished fact, and that all 
farther opposition would not only be useless, 
,but would only tend to hasten and complete 
his own utter downfall, concluded to change 
his course, and join heartily himself in the gen- 
eral welcome which was given to the bride. 
His plan was to persuade the queen that the 
opposition which he had made to King Hen- 
ry's measures was directed only against the 
peace which had been made with France, and 
which he had opposed for political considera- 
tions alone, but that, so far as the marriage 
with Margaret was concerned, he approved it. 
So lie prepared to outdo, if possible, all the 
rest of the nobility in the magnificence of the 
welcome which he was to give her on her ar- 
rival in London. He possessed a palace at 
Greenwich, on the Thames, a short distance be- 
low London, and he sent an invitation to Mar- 
garet to come there on the last day of her jour- 
ney, in order to rest and refresh herself a little 
preparatory to the excitement and fatigue of 
entering London. Margaret accepted this in- 



112 Margaret of Anjou. [1445. 

Great preparations in London. Curious exhibitions. 

vitation, and when the bridal jDrocession began 
to draw nigh, Gloucester came forth to meet 
her at the head of a band of five hundred of 
his own retainers, all dressed in his uniform, 
and wearing the badge of his personal service. 
This great parade was intended partly to do 
honor to the bride, and partly to impress her 
with a proper sense of his own rank and im- 
portance as one of the nobles of England, and 
of the danger that she would incur in making 
him her enemy. 

Very splendid preparations were made in 
the city of London to do honor to the royal 
bride in her passage through the city. It was 
the custom in those times to exhibit in the 
streets, on great public days, tableaux, and em- 
blematic or dramatic representations of certain 
truths or moral sentiments appropriate to the 
occasion, and sometimes of passages of Scripture 
history. A great many of these exhibitions 
were arranged by the citizens of London, to be 
seen by the bride and the bridal procession as 
they passed through the streets. Some of these 
were very quaint and queer, and would only 
be laughed at at the present day. For in- 
stance, in one place was an arrangement of 
two figures, one dressed to represent justice, 
and the other peace; and these figures were 



1445.] The Wedding. 113 

Justice and peace. The queen passes through London. 

made movable and fitted with strings, so that, 
at the proper moment, when the queen was 
passing, they could be made to come together 
and apparently kiss each other. This was in- 
tended as an expression of the text, justice and 
peace have kissed each other, which was con- 
sidered as an appropriate text to characterize 
and commemorate the peace between England 
and France which this marriage had sealed. 
In another place there was an emblematical pa- 
geant representing peace and plenty. There 
were also, at other places, representations of 
Noah's ark, of the parable of the wise and fool- 
ish virgins, of the heavenly Jerusalem, and 
even one of the general resurrection and judg- 
ment day. 

On the morning of the day appointed for the 
queen's entry into London, the pageants hav- 
ing all been prepared and set up in their places, 
a grand procession of the mayor and aldermen, 
and other dignitaries, was formed, and proceed- 
ed down the river toward Greenwich, in order 
to meet the queen and escort her through the 
city. These civic officers were all mounted on 
horseback, and dressed in their gay official cos- 
tumes. The chiefs were dressed in scarlet, and 
the body of their followers, arranged in bands 
according to their respective trades, wore blue 
H 



114 Margaket of Anjou. [1445. 

The coronation. The queen left to repose. 

gowns, with embroidered sleeves and red hoods. 
In this way the royal procession was escorted 
over London Bridge, and through the principal 
streets of the city to Westminster, where the 
bride was at length safely received in the pal- 
ace of her husband. 

This was on the 28th of May. Two days aft- 
erward Margaret was crowned queen in West- 
minster with great parade and ceremony. The 
coronation was followed by a grand tournament 
of three days' duration, accompanied with ban- 
quets and other festivities usual on such occa- 
sions, and then at length the bride had the sat- 
isfaction of feeling that the long-protracted cer- 
emony was over, and that she was now to be 
left to repose. 



1445.] Keception in England. 115 

Duke of Gloucester. The cardinal. 



Chapter YII. 
Keception in England. 

NOTWITHSTANDING the grand recep- 
tion which the Duke of Gloucester gave 
to Margaret on her arrival in England, she knew 
very well that he had always been opposed to 
her marriage, and had not failed to do all in 
his power to prevent it. She accordingly con- 
sidered him as her enemy ; and though she en- 
deavored at first, at least, to treat him with out- 
ward politeness, she felt a secret resentment 
against him in heart, and would have been 
very glad to have joined his political enemies 
in effecting his overthrow. 

Cardinal Beaufort and the Earl of Suffolk, 
as has already been said, were Gloucester's ri- 
vals and enemies. The cardinal was a vener- 
able man, now quite advanced in years. He 
was, however, extremely ambitious. He was 
immensely wealthy, and his wealth gave him 
great influence. He had, moreover, been the 
guardian of the king during his minority, and 
in that capacity had acquired a great influence 
over his mind. The Earl of Suffolk, who, with 



116 Makgaeet of Anjou. [1445.^ 

Margaret's affection for Lord and Lady Suifolk. Quarrel. 

his ladj, had been sent to France to bring Mar- 
garet over, had inspired Margaret with a great 
friendship for him. She felt a strong affection 
for him, and also for Ladj Suffolk, not only 
on account of their having acted so important 
a part in promoting her marriage, but also on 
account of the very kind and attentive manner 
in which they had treated her during the whole 
period of her journey. Thus the cardinal and 
Suffolk, on the one hand, had the advantage, 
in their quarrel with the Duke of Gloucester, 
of great personal influence over the king and 
queen, while Gloucester himself, on the other 
hand, enjoyed in some respects a still greater 
advantage in his popularity with the mass of 
the people. Every body perceived that the 
old quarrel between these great personages 
would now, on the arrival of the queen in En- 
gland, be prosecuted with more violence than 
ever, and all the courtiers were anxious to find 
out which was likely to be the victor, so that, 
at the end of the battle, they might be found 
on the winning side. 

As soon as the coronation was over, the prin- 
cipal personages who had been sent with Mar- 
garet by her flither, for the purpose of accom- 
panying her on her journey, and seeing her 
properly and comfortably established in her 



1445.] Eeception in England. 117 

Margaret is left to herself. 

new home, were dismissed and allowed to set 
out on their return. They all received pres- 
ents in money from King Henry to reimburse 
them for the expenses of the journey which 
they had made in bringing him his bride. 




ANCIEiiT rORTEAIT OF QUEEN MAEGAEET. 

Margaret was thus left to herself in the new 
station and new sphere of duty to which she 



118 Margaeet of Anjou. 

Eepair of the palaces. The king's want of money. 

had been transferred. All the royal palaces 
had been fitted up expressly for her reception. 
This was very necessary in fact, for some years 
had elapsed since there had been a queen in 
England, and all the royal residences had be- 
come very much out of repair. Those were 
rude times, and even the palaces and castles 
that were built for kings and queens were at 
best very comfortless dwellings. But when, 
during a long minority, they were abandoned 
to the rude tenants and rough usages to which 
at such times they were sure to be devoted, 
they came, in the end, to be little better than so 
many barracks for soldiery. It required a great 
deal of time, and no little expense, to prepare 
the Tower and the palaces of Westminster and 
Eichmond for the reception of a young and 
beautiful queen, and of the gay company of la- 
dies that were to attend her. King Henry was 
so destitute of money at this time that he found 
it extremely difficult to provide the means of 
paying the workmen. There is still extant a 
petition which the clerk of the works sent in to 
the king, praying him to supply him with more 
money to pay the men, for the labor was so 
poorly paid, and the wages were so much in ar- 
rears, that it was extremely difiicult for him to 
find men, he said, to go on with the work. 



Eeception in England. 119 

The queen attaches herself to Cardinal Beaufort. Jealousy of Gloucester. 

The palaces were, however, at last made 
ready before Margaret came. There were 
apartments for her in the Tower, and there were 
also three other palaces in and near London, in 
either of which she could reside at her pleas- 
ure. Besides this, the cardinal, who, as has al- 
ready been remarked, was possessed of immense 
wealth, owned, among his other establishments, 
a beautiful mansion at Waltham Forest, a few 
miles north of London. The cardinal set apart 
a state chamber in this house for the exclusive 
use of the queen when she came to visit him, 
and caused it to be fitted up and furnished in a 
magnificent manner for her. The drapery of 
the bed was of cloth of gold from Damascus, 
and the other furniture and fittings were to cor- 
respond. The queen used often to go and visit 
the cardinal at this country seat. She soon 
became very fond of him, and willing to be 
guided by his counsel in almost every thing 
that she did. Indeed, the ascendency which 
the cardinal thus exercised over Margaret great- 
ly increased his power over the king. The af- 
fairs of the court and of the government were 
directed almost wholly b}^ his counsels. The 
Duke of Grloucester and the nobles of his party 
became more and more indignant and angry at 
this state of things. The realm of England, 



120 Makgaret of Anjou. 

Great mistakes often made. 

they said, throTigh tlie weakness and imbecility 
of the king, had fallen into the hands of a priest 
and of a woman — a French woman, too. 

But there was nothing that they could do. 
Margaret was so young and so beautiful that 
every body was captivated with her person and 
behavior, and whatever she did was thought to 
be right. Indeed, the general course which she 
pursued on her first arrival in England was 
right in an eminent degree. There have been 
many cases in which young queens, in coming 
as Margaret did, away from their native land 
and from all their early friends, to reign in a 
foreign court, have brought with them from 
home personages of distinction to be their fa- 
vorites and friends in their new position. But 
when this is done, jealousies and ill-will always 
sooner or later spring up between these rela- 
tives and friends of the foreign bride and the 
old native advisers of the king her husband. 
The result is, in the end, a king's party and a 
queen's party at court, and perpetual quarrels 
and dissensions ensue, in which at least the 
people of the country are sure to become in- 
volved, from their natural jealousy of the for- 
eign influence, as they call it, introduced by the 
queen. 

Queen Margaret had the good sense to avoid 



Eeception in England. 121 

Margaret's friends and counselore. Her good sense. 

this danger. All the principal persons who 
eame with her to England, for the purpose of 
accompanying her on the journey, and of car- 
rying back to her father and friends in France 
authentic assurances of her having been honor- 
ably received by her husband as his bride and 
queen, were dismissed and sent home again im- 
mediately after the coronation, as we have al- 
ready seen. Margaret retained only certain do- 
mestic servants, and perhaps some two or three 
private and personal friends. As for counselors 
and advisers, she threw herself at once upon the 
ministers and counselors of the king — the Car- 
dinal Beaufort, who had been his guardian from 
childhood, and the Earl of Suffolk, who was one 
of his principal ministers, and had been sent by 
him, as his proxy and representative, to nego- 
tiate ,the marriage and bring home the bride. 
She made Lady Suffolk, too — the wife of the 
earl — her most intimate female friend. She ap- 
pointed her to the principal place of honor in 
her household, and in other ways manifested 
great affection for her. The good sense and 
discretion which she thus manifested — young 
as she was, for she was not yet seventeen — in 
choosing for her confidential friend a lady of 
the age and standing of Lady Suffolk, instead 
of attempting to place in that position some for- 



122 Margaret OF Anjou. 

Example for all young brides. Opinions in England. 

eigii belle of her own years, whom she had 
brought with her for the purpose from her. na- 
tive land, as many young brides in her situ- 
ation would have done, deserves much com- 
mendation. In a word, Margaret, in becoming 
a wife, gave herself up entirely to her husband. 
She made his friends her friends, and his inter- 
ests her interests, and thus transferred herself, 
wholly and without reserve, to her new posi- 
tion ; an example which all young ladies whose 
marriage brings them into entirely new circum- 
stances and relations would do well to follow. 
Nothing is more dangerous than the attempt in 
such cases to bring from the old home influ- 
ences in any form to he introduced with a view 
of sharing the control in the new. 

In consequence of the discreet course of con- 
duct that Margaret thus pursued, and of the ef- 
fect produced on the court by her beauty, her 
vivacity, and her many polite accomplishments, 
public opinion — that is, the opinion of the out- 
side world, who knew nothing of her secret de- 
signs or of her real character — turned very soon 
after her arrival in England entirely in her fa- 
vor. As has already been said, the general sen- 
timent of the nobles and of the people was 
strongly against the match when it was first 
proposed. They opposed it, not because they 



Keception in England. 123 

llenry'3 character. Margaret's character. 

had any personal objection to Margaret herself, 
but because, in order to prepare the way for it, 
it was necessary to make peace with France, and 
in making peace, to grant certain concessions 
which they thought would weaken the power 
of the English on the Continent, and, at any rate, 
greatly interfere with the farther extension of 
their power there. But when the jDCople came 
to see and know the queen, they all admired 
and loved her. 

As for the king, he was perfectly enchanted 
with his bride. He was himself, as has already 
l3een said, of a very sedate and quiet turn of 
mind ; amiable and gentle in disposition ; de- 
vout, fond of retirement, and interested only in 
such occupations and pleasures as are consistent 
with a life of tranquillity and repose. Margaret 
was as different as possible from all this. Her 
brilliant personal charms, her wit, her spirit, 
her general intellectual superiority, the extraor- 
dinary courage for which she afterward became 
so celebrated, and which began to show itself 
even at this early period, all combined to 
awaken in Henry's mind a profound admira- 
tion for his wife, and gave her a great and rap- 
idly-increasing ascendency over him. 

The impression which Margaret made upon 
the people was equally favorable. England, 



124 Maegaret of Ain-jou. 



Her popularity in England. 



they thought, had never seen a queen more 
worthy of the throne than Margaret of Anjou. 
Some one said of her that no woman equaled 
her in beauty, and few men surpassed her in 
courage and energy. It seemed as if she had 
been born in order to supply to her royal hus- 
band the qualities which he required in order 
to become a great king. 



The Stoky of Lady Neville. 125 

Intrigues. A romantic story. 



Chapter YIII. 
The Story of Lady Neville. 

IN reading the history of the English mon- 
archy in these early times, you will often 
hear of the court intrigues which mingled with, 
and sometimes greatly complicated, the move- 
ment of public affairs. Margaret of Anjou 
found herself, on her arrival in England, in- 
volved in many such intrigues. Indeed, she 
was admirably qualified, by her sagacity and 
quickness of apprehension, and by the great 
ascendency which these and other qualities 
which she jDOSsessed gave her over the minds 
of all about her, to "take a very active and suc- 
cessful part in the management of manoeu- 
vrings of all sorts. The nature of these court 
intrigues is very well illustrated by the narra- 
tion which the most celebrated of Margaret's 
biographers gives of one in which he says that 
Margaret herself became involved while on her 
way from France to England. The story seems 
much more like romance than like reality. 
Indeed, it doubtless is a romance, but it never* 
theless illustrates well the manner in which the 



126 Maegaret of Anjou. 

Lady Neville. First intei'view. Dauphin ess, 

private passions and personal and family quai- 
rels of the great became involved with, and 
sometimes entirely controlled, the most import 
ant events in the national history, and there- 
fore it will not be amiss to relate it. 

The first connection which Queen Margaret, 
as we are henceforth to call her, had with the 
affair of Lady Neville, took place at Abbeville, 
a town in France not very far from Calais, 
when the queen was" advancing toward the sea- 
coast on her way to England. While she was 
at Abbeville, there suddenly appeared a young 
and beautiful lady w^ho asked an audience of 
Margaret, announcing herself simply as one of 
the ladies who had been attached to the serv- 
ice of the dauphiness, who was the wife of the 
oldest son of the king,'^ and who had recently 
died. She was admitted. She remained in pri- 
vate conversation with Margaret two hours, and 
when this mysterious interview was concluded 
she was introduced to the other ladies of Mar- 
garet's court as Miss Sanders, an English lady 
who had been attached to the court of the dau- 
phiness, but who now, since the death of her 

* See map. The oldest son of the King of France and 
the heir to the crown is styled the Dauphin. His rank and 
position corresponds with that of the Prince of Wales in En- 
gland. 



The Stoey of Lady Neville. 127 

Curiosity of the ladies. The stranger's resen-e. Her story. 

mistress, wished to return to England in Mar- 
garet's train. Margaret informed the other la- 
dies that she had received her into her house- 
hold, and gave directions that she should be 
treated with the utmost consideration. 

The other ladies were very curious to solve 
the mystery of this case, but they could not ob- 
tain any clew to it. The stranger was very re- 
served, mingled very little with her new com- 
panions, and evinced a constant desire to avoid 
observation. There was something, however, 
in her beauty, and in the expression of deep 
and constant grief which her countenance wore, 
which made her an object of great interest to 
all the household of the queen, but they could 
not learn any particulars of her history. The 
facts, however, were these. 

Her real name was Anne Neville. She was 
the daughter of Eichard Neville, Earl of Salis- 
bury, one of the leading and most highly-con- 
nected noblemen in England. When she was 
about fifteen years old she was married to a rel- 
ative of the family. . The marriage, however, 
proved a very unhappy one. Her husband 
was very jealous of her. From her subsequent 
conduct it would seem probable that he might 
have had good reason to be so. At any rate, 
he was extremely jealous; and as he was of a 



128 Makgaret of Anjou. 

Iler unhappy marriage. Her marriage dissolved. Pretext. 

harsh and cruel temper, he made his young 
wife very miserable by the exactions and pri- 
vations which he enforced upon her, and by the 
violent invectives with which he continually 
assailed her. 

The incessant anxiety and suffering which 
these troubles occasioned soon began to prey 
upon the lady's health, and, at length, her fa- 
ther, observing that she was growing pale and 
thin, began to inquire into the cause. He soon 
learned what a dreadful life his daughter was 
leading. Like most of the other great nobles 
of those days, he was a man of violent char- 
acter, and he immediately determined on res- 
cuing his daughter from her husband's power, 
for he considered her husband as the party 
chiefly, if not wholly, to blame. 

He ascertained, or pretended to ascertain, 
that there had been some informalities con- 
nected with the marriage. His daughter was 
distantly related to her husband, and there 
were certain steps w^hich it was necessary to 
take in such cases to obtain a dispensation from 
the Church, in order to render such marriage 
legal. These steps he now alleged had not 
been properly taken, and he immediately in- 
stituted proceedings to have the marriage an- 
nulled. Whether there was really any suffi- 



The Story of Lady Neville. 129 

ller marriage annulled. She becomes free. Her admirers. 

cient ground for such annulling, or whether he 
obtained the decree through influences which 
his high position enabled him to bring to bear 
upon the court, I do not know. He, however, 
succeeded in his purpose. The marriage was 
annulled, and his daughter returned home; 
and, in order to obliterate as far as possible all 
traces of the unhappy union into which she 
had been drawn, she dropped the name which 
she had received from her husband and re- 
sumed again her own maiden name. 

She now began soon to appear at court, where 
she almost immediately attracted great atten- 
tion . On account of the peculiar circumstances 
in which she was placed, she enjoyed all the 
privileges of a widow, combined with the at- 
tractiveness and the charms of a lovely girl. 
Almost every body was ready to fall in love 
with her. 

Among her other admirers was the Duke of 
Somerset. He was a man of high rank and of 
great accomplishments, but he was married, 
and he could not, therefore, innocently make 
her the object of his love. He was not, how- 
ever, deterred by this consideration, and he 
soon succeeded in making a strong impression 
upon Lady Neville's heart. They soon con- 
trived means of meeting each other in private, 
I 



130 Margaeet of Anjou. 

The Duke of Gloucester. Splendid prospect. 

resorting to all sorts of manoeuvres and inven- 
tions to aid them in keeping their guilty at- 
tachment to each other from the knowledge of 
those around them. 

In the mean while, the Duke of Gloucester 
himself, who was now, however, considerably 
advanced in life, lost his wife, she dying about 
this time, and he almost immediately conceived 
the idea of making Lady Neville her successor. 
He thought it not proper to say any thing to 
Lady Neville herself on this subject until some 
little time should have elapsed, but he spoke 
to her father, the Earl of Salisbury, who read- 
ily approved of the plan. Gloucester was at 
this time prime minister of England, and the 
lady whom he should choose for his wife would 
be elevated by her marriage to the highest pin- 
nacle of grandeur. Of course, the importance 
and influence of her father also, and of all the 
members of her family, would be greatly in- 
creased by so splendid an alliance. 

So it was agreed that the match should be 
made, but the arrangement was to be kept se- 
cret, not only from the public, but from the in- 
tended bride herself, until a suitable time should 
have elapsed for the widower to recover from 
the grief which the death of his former wife 
was supposed to have occasioned him. 



The Story of Lady Neville. 131 

Gloucester's declaration. Perplexity of Lady Neville. 

At length, when the proper time for mourn- 
ing had expired, Grloucester made his declara- 
tion of love. Lady JSTeville listened to it, think- 
ing all the time what Somerset would say when 
she came to communicate the news to him. 
She did communicate it to him on the first op- 
portunity. 

Great was the distress and the perplexity 
which the lovers felt while consulting together 
and determining what was to be done in such an 
emergency. They could not endure the thought 
of a separation. They could not be married to 
each other, for Somerset was married already. 
For Lady Neville to remain. single all her life 
in order to be at liberty to indulge a guilty 
passion was an idea not to be entertained. 
They knew, too, that their present relations to 
each, other could not long be continued. A 
thousand circumstances might happen at any 
time to interrupt or to terminate it, and it could 
not be long, in any event, before it must come 
to an end. So it was agreed between them that 
Lady Neville should accede to the great min= 
ister's proposal and become his wife. In the 
mean time, until the period should arrive for 
the consummation of the marriage, they were 
to renew and redouble their intimacy with each 
other, taking, however, every possible precau- 



182 Makgaret of Anjou. 

The duke becomes uneasy. His spies. 

tion to conceal their movements from the eyes 
of others. 

So the duke's offer was accepted, and it was 
soon made known to all the court that Lady 
Keville was his affianced bride. 

Thus far Lady Neville had treated the duke 
with great reserve in her accidental intercourse 
with him at the reimions of the court, but now, 
since he was her accepted lover, he thought he 
might reasonably expect a greater degree of 
cordiality in her demeanor toward him. But 
he found no change. She continued as formal 
and reserved as ever. Moreover, when he went 
to visit her, which he did sometimes several 
times a day, she was very often not at home — 
much too often, he thought. He went to the 
place where her domestics said she had gone in 
such cases, but she was very seldom to be found. 
He soon came to the conclusion that there was 
some strange mystery involved in the affair, 
and he determined to adopt effectual measures 
for unraveling it. 

So he employed certain trusty persons who 
were in his service to watch and see where 
Lady Neville went, and how she passed her 
time during these unaccountable absences from 
home. For many days this watch was contin- 
ued, but no discoveries were made. The spies 



The Stoey of Lady Neville. 133 

Discoveries. The duke's perplexity. His mode of reasoning. 

reported that tliey could not keep upon the la- 
dy's track. In spite of their best exertions she 
would contrive to elude them, and for several 
hours every day they lost sight of her alto- 
gether. They saw enough, however, to satisfy 
them that there was something wrong going on. 
What it was, however, they could not discover, 
so shrewd and complete were the precautions 
which Somerset and Lady Neville had taken to 
prevent detection. 

The Dake of Gloucester was for a time much 
perplexed to know what to do, whether openly 
to quarrel with Lady Neville and refuse to con- 
summate the marriage, or to banish his sus- 
picions and take her for his wife. His love for 
her finally triumphed, and he resolved to pro- 
ceed with the marriage. He had no positive 
evidence against her, he said to himself, and 
then, besides, even if there were some secret at- 
tachment on her part, to account for these mys- 
terious appearances, she might, after all, when 
once married to him, make him a faithful and 
affectionate wife. Some lingering remains of a 
former affection must often necessarily dwell, 
he thought, in the heart of a bride, even when 
truly and honestly giving herself to the one on 
whom her choice is finally made. Especially 
is this true in cases where the lady is young, 



134 Maegaret of Anjou. 

The decision. Clandestine meeting of the lovers. Village on the Tham«s. 

accomplished, and lovely, while her husband 
can only offer wealth or high position instead 
of youth and personal attractions as a means of 
winning her favor. 

So it was decided that the marriage should 
take place, and the day for the wedding was 
appointed. 

When the time for the wedding drew nigh, 
and the lovers found that the period of their 
enjoyments was drawing to a close, they de- 
termined on having a farewell interview with 
each other on the day before the wedding, and 
in order to be safe from interruption, it was ar- 
ranged that they should spend the day together 
in a village on the banks of the Thames, at 
some little distance from London. 

When the day came. Lady Neville left her 
home to repair to the place of rendezvous. She 
was followed by Gloucester's spies. She was 
received at the village by Somerset. Somerset 
was, however, so disguised that the spies did 
not know and could not discover who he was. 
They were satisfied, however, from his demean- 
or toward Lady Neville, that he was her lover, 
and they at once reported the facts to Glouces- 
ter in London. 

Gloucester was of course in a great rage. 
He swore terrible vengeance against both Lady 



The Story of Lady Neville. 135 

Plans for her return, Gloucester mistaken. 

Neville herself and her lover, whoever he might 
be. He at once armed a troop of his followers 
and rode off at the head of them, guided by one 
of the spies, to the village of rendezvous. It 
was dark before he arrived there. Some peas- 
ants of whom he made inquiry informed him 
that a lady answering to the description which 
he gave them had gone on board the boat to 
return to London some time before. Glouces- 
ter immediately turned, and made all haste 
back to London again, in hopes to reach the 
landing before the boat should arrive, with a 
full determination to kill both the lady herself 
and her paramour the moment they should 
touch the shore. 

lie was mistaken, however, in supposing 
that the paramour, whoever he might be, was 
with the lady. Somerset, in the excess of his 
precaution, had returned to London by land, 
leaving Lady Neville to return by herself in 
the boat with the other passengers; for the 
boat was a sort of packet which plied regularly 
between the village and London. He, how- 
ever, had stationed trusty persons not far from 
the landing in London, who were to receive 
Lady Neville on her arrival and convey her 
home. 

Gloucester arrived at the landino* before the 



136 Margaeet of Anjou. 

The boat arrives. Assault upon the hoat. Boatmen murdered, 

boat reached the shore. It was, however, now 
so dark that he despaired of being able to rec- 
ognize the persons he was in pursuit of, espe- 
cially under the disguise which he did not doubt 
that they would wear. So, in the recklessness 
of his rage, he resolved to kill every body in 
the boat, and thus to make sure of his revenge. 

Accordingly, the moment that the boat touch- 
ed the shore, he and his followers rushed on 
board, and a dreadful scene of consternation 
and terror ensued. Gloucester himself made 
his way directly toward the figure of a lady, 
whose air, and manner, and style of dress indi- 
cated, so far as he could discern them in the 
darkness, that she was probably the object of 
his fury. He plunged his dagger into her 
breast. She, in an agony of terror, leaped into 
the river. She was buoyed up by her dress, 
and floated down the stream. 

In the mean time, the work of murder on 
board the boat went on. The duke and his 
men continued stabbing and striking down all 
around them, until the passengers and the boat- 
men were every one killed. The bodies were 
then all thrown into the river, stones having 
been previously tied to them to make them 
sink. 

The people in the houses of the neighbor- 



The Story of Lady Neville. 137 

Cries. The boat sunk, Gloucester. 

boocl, Oil the banks of the river, heard the 
cries, and raised their heads a moment from 
their pillows, or paused as they were walking 
alonof the silent streets to listen. But the cries 
were soon suppressed, for the massacre was the 
work of a few moments only, and such sounds 
were far too common in those days in the streets 
of London, and especially on the river, to at- 
tract much regard. 

The boat was of course covered with blood. 
The duke ordered his men to take it out into 
the middle of the river and sink it, that being 
the easiest and the quickest way of covering 
up all traces and proofs of the crime. 

The writer who relates this story says that 
Gloucester's reason for wishing to have his 
agency in this transaction concealed was not 
that he feared any punishment, for the laws 
in those days were wholly powerless to pun- 
ish deeds of violence like this, committed by 
men of Gloucester's rank and station. He 
only thought that if it were known that he had 
murdered in this way so many innocent peo- 
ple, in order merely to make sure of killing an 
object of his own private jealousy and hate, it 
would injure his popularity! 

In the mean time. Lady JSTeville, for it was 
really Lady JSTeville whom Gloucester had stab- 



138 



Margaeet of Anjou. 



Escape of Lady Neville. 



Under the bridge. 



bed, and who had leaped into the river, float- 
ed on down the stream, borne up bj her dress, 
which was made, according to the fashion of 
the times, in a manner to give it great buoy- 
ancy in the water, by means of the hoops with 
which the sleeves of the robe were distended, 
and also from the form of the head-dress, which 
was very large and light, and well adapted to 
serve as a float to keep the head from sinking. 




FEMALE COSTUME IN TII7C TIMK OF IIE^'KY VI. 



She floated on in this manner down the riv- 
er nntil she had passed London Bridge, being 
carried througli by the current under one of 



The Story of Lady Neville. 139 

Rescued. Received on board a vessel. 

the arches. On emerging from the bridge, she 
came to the part of the river where the ships 
and other vessels bound down the river were 
moored. It happened that among other ves- 
sels lying at anchor in the stream was one 
bound to ISTormandj. The captain of this ves- 
sel had been on shore, but he was now coming 
off in his boat to go on board again. As the 
captain was looking out over the water by the 
light of a lantern which he held in his hand, 
to discern the way to his vessel, he saw some- 
thing floating at a short distance from him 
which resembled the dress of a woman. He 
urged the boat forward in that direction. He 
succeeded, with great difficulty, after arriving 
at the spot, in getting the now almost lifeless 
form of Lady Neville on board his boat, and 
then rowed on as fast as possible to the vessel. 
Here every thing was done which the case 
required to restore the drowning lady to life. 
She soon recovered her senses, and looked 
about her wild with excitement and terror. 
She had the presence of mind, however, not to 
say a word that could betray her secret, though 
her dress, and her air and manner, convinced 
the captain that she was no ordinary person- 
age. The wound was examined and found not 
to be serious. She had been protected by some 



140 Margaret of Anjou. 

Her determination. She is received by the dauphiness. 

portions of her dress which had turned the 
poniard aside. When she found that the im- 
mediate danger had passed she became more 
composed, and began to inquire in regard to 
the persons and scenes around her. When she 
found that the vessel which had received her 
was bound to Kormandy, she determined to es- 
cape to that country ; so she contrived means 
to induce the captain to conceal her on board 
until the time should arrive for setting sail, and 
then to take her with him down the river and 
across the Channel. 

On her arrival in France she repaired at once 
to the court of the dauphiness, who, being an 
English princess, was predisposed to take com- 
passion upon her and to receive her kindly. 
She remained at this court, as we have seen, 
under the assumed name of Miss Sanders, until 
the death of the dauphiness. She was thus 
suddenly deprived of her protector in France, 
but almost at the same time the marriage of 
Margaret of Anjou seemed to open to her the 
means of returning to England. 

So long as the Duke of Gloucester lived and 
retained his power, she knew very well that she 
could not return in safety to the English court ; 
but she thought that Margaret's going to En- 
gland would probably be the precursor of 
Gloucester's downfall. 



The Story of Lady Neville. 141 

Political intrigues. Lady Neville and Margaret. Lady Neville returns. 

^^ jShe must hate him," said she to herself, 
''almost as much as I do, for he has opposed 
her marriage from the beginning, and has done 
all in his power to prevent it. Margaret will 
never be satisfied until she has deposed him 
from his power and put some friend of hers in 
his place. I can help her in this work, if she 
will receive me under her protection and allow 
me to accompany her to England." 

So she proceeded to Abbeville to intercept 
the queen on her way to the coast, as we have 
already seen. At the long and secret inter- 
view which she had with her there she related 
to Margaret the story of her connection with 
Somerset and with Gloucester, and of her al- 
most miraculous escape from death at Glouces- 
ter's hands. She now wished for revenge ; and 
if Queen Margaret would receive her into her 
service and take her to England, she would con- 
cert measures with Somerset, her lover, which 
would greatly aid Margaret in the plans which 
she might form for effecting the downfall of 
Gloucester. 

Margaret at once and very gladly acceded to 
this request, and took Lady Neville with her to 
England. She treated her with great consider- 
ation and honor ; but still Lady Neville main- 
tained a strict reserve in all her intercourse 



142 Margaret of Anjou. 

Mystery. 

with tlie otlier ladies of the court, and kept her- 
self ill great seclusion, especially after the ar- 
rival of the bridal party in England. Her pre- 
text for this was her deep affliction at the loss 
of her friend and patroness the Dauphiness of 
France. But the other ladies of the court were 
not wholly satisfied with this explanation. 
They were fully convinced that there was more 
in the case than met the view, especially when 
they found that on the arrival of the party in 
England the stranger seemed to take special 
pains to avoid meeting the Duke of Gloucester. 
They exerted all their powers of watchfulness 
and scrutiny to unravel the mystery, but in 
vain. 



1445.] Plottings. 143 

Personal and political intrigues. Margaret's beauty. 



Chapter IX. 
Plottings. 

IT was in this way that public affairs were 
mingled and compliG«ted with private and 
personal intrigues in the English court at the 
time of Margaret's arrival in the country. 
Margaret was of a character which admirably 
fitted her to act her part well in the manage- 
ment of such intrigues, and in playing off the 
passions of ambition, love, resentment, envy, 
and hate, as manifested by those around her — 
passions which always glow and rage with 
greater fary in a court than in any other com- 
munity — so as to accomplish her ends. She 
was very young indeed, but she had arrived at 
a maturity, both mental and personal, far be- 
yond her years. Her countenance was beauti- 
ful, and her air and manner possessed an inex- 
pressible charm, but her mental powers were of 
a very masculine character, and in the boldness 
of the plans which she formed, and in the min- 
gled shrewdness and energy with which she 
went on to the execution of them, she evinced 
less the qualities of a woman than of a man. 



144 Maegaret of Anjou. [1445. 

Lady Neville supposed to be dead. Her father. 

It was supposed by all parties in England 
that Lady Neville was dead. Of course the 
Duke of Gloucester had no idea that any one 
could have escaped from the boat. He sup- 
posed that he had effected the complete de- 
struction of all on board of it. Somerset's men, 
who had been stationed at some distance from 
the landing to receive Lady Neville and convey 
her home, waited until long past the appointed 
hour, but no one came. The inquiries which 
Somerset made secretly the next day showed 
that the boat had sailed from the village, but 
no tidings of her arrival in London could be ob- 
tained, and he supposed that she must have 
been lost, with all on board, by some accident 
on the river. As for the Earl of Salisbury, Lady 
Neville's father, Grloucester went to him at once, 
and informed him what he had done. He had 
detected his daughter, he said, in a guilty in- 
trigue, which, if it had been made public, would 
have brought not only herself, but all her fam- 
ily, to shame. The earl, who was a man of 
great sternness and severity of character, said 
that Grloucester had done perfectly right, and 
they agreed together to keep the whole trans- 
action secret from the world, and to circulate a 
report that Lady Neville had died from some 
natural cause. 



1445.] Plottings. 145 

Arrival in London. The queen and Henry. 

Such was the state of things when Margaret 
and Lad J Neville arrived in London. As soon 
as the queen became somewhat established in 
her new home, she began to revolve in her mind 
the means of deposing Gloucester. Her plan 
was first to endeavor to arouse her husband 
from his lethargy, and to awaken in his mind 
something like a spirit of indej)endence and a 
feeling of ambition. 

" You have in your hands," she used to say 
to him, " what may be easily made the founda- 
tion of the noblest realm in Europe. Besides 
Great Britain, you have the whole of Norman- 
dy, and other valuable possessions in France, 
which together form a vast kingdom, in the 
government of which you might acquire gTeat 
glory, if you would take the government of it 
into your own hands." 

She went on to represent to him how un- 
worthy it was of him to allow all the power of 
such a realm to be wielded by his uncle, in- 
stead of assuming the command at once himself, 
as every consideration of prudence and policy 
urged him to do. A great many instances had 
occurred in English history, she said, in which 
a favorite minister had been allowed to hold 
power so long, and to strengthen himself in the 
possession of it so completely, that he could not 
K 



146 Margaret of Anjou. [1445. 

Margaret's arguments. The example of ancestors. 

be divested of it, so that the king himself came 
at length to be held in subjection by his own 
minister. The Duke of Gloucester was ad- 
vancing rapidly in the same course; and, unless 
the king aroused himself from his inaction, and 
took the government into his own hands, he 
would soon lose all power to do it, and would 
sink into a condition of humiliating dependence 
upon one of his own subjects. 

Then, again, she urged upon him at other 
times the example of his father and grandfa- 
ther, Henry IV. and Henry Y., whose reigns, 
through the personal energy and prowess which 
they had exhibited in strengthening and ex- 
tending their dominions, had given them a 
world-wide renown. It would be extremely 
inglorious for the descendant of such a line to 
spend his life in spiritless inactivity, and to 
leave the affairs of his kingdom in the hands 
of a relative, who of course could only be ex- 
pected to exercise his powers for the purpose 
of promoting his own interest and glory. 

Moreover, she reminded him of a danger that 
he was in from the representations of other 
branches of the royal line who still claimed the 
throne, and might at any time, whenever an 
opportunity offered, be expected to attempt to 
enforce their claims. As will be seen by the 



1445.] Plottings. 147 

Aune. House of York. The king not safe. 

genealogical table,* Lionel, tlie second son of 
Edward III. — whose immediate descendants 
had been superseded bj those of John of Gaunt, 
the third son, on account of the fact that the 
only child of Lionel was a daughter, and she 
had been unable to make good her claims — had 
a great-granddaughter, named Anne, who mar- 
ried Eichard, a son of Edmund, the fourth of 
the sons of Edward Ill.f Eichard Plantagenet, 
who issued from this union, was, of course, the 
descendant and heir of Lionel. He had also 
other claims to the throne, and Margaret re- 
minded her husband that there was danger at 
any time that he might come forward and as- 
sert his claims. 

Under these circumstances, it was evident, 
said she, that the king could not consider his 
interests safe in the care of any person whatso- 
ever out of his own immediate family — that is, 
in any one's hands but his own and those of 
his wife. A minister, however strong his pro- 
fessions of fidelity and attachment might be, 
could not be depended upon. If another dy- 
nasty offered him more advantageous terms, 
there was not, and there could not be, any secu- 

* On page 20. 

t That is, the fourth of the table. There were other chil- 
dren not mentioned here. 



148 Margaret of Anjou. [1445. 

Margaret makes some impression. Henry listens to her counsels. 

rity against his changing sides ; whereas a wife, 
whose interests were bound up inseparably with 
those of her husband, might be relied upon 
with absolute certainty to be faithful and true 
to her husband in every conceivable emergency. 

These representations which Margaret made 
to her husband from time to time, as she had 
opportunity, produced a very considerable im- 
pression upon him. Still he seemed not to have 
resolution and energy enough to act in accord- 
ance with them. He said that he did not see 
how he could take away from his uncle a power 
which he had always exercised well and faith- 
fully. And then, besides, he himself had not 
the age and experience necessary for the suc- 
cessful management of the affairs of so mighty 
a kingdom. If he were to undertake the duties 
of government, he was convinced that he should 
make mistakes, and so get into difficulty. 

Margaret, however, clearly perceived that 
she was making progress in producing an im- 
pression upon her husband's mind. To increase 
the influence of her representations, she watched 
for occasions in which Grloucester differed in 
opinion from the king, and failed to carry out 
suggestions or recommendations which the king 
had made, relating probably, in most cases, to 
appointments to office about the court. Some 



1446.] Plottings. 149 

Henry's timidity. Margaret encourages him. 

say she created tliese occasions by artfully in- 
ducing her husband to make recommendations 
which she knew the duke would not sanction. 
At all events, such cases occurred, and Marga- 
ret took advantage of them to urge her views 
still more upon Henry's mind. 

" How humiliating," said she, " that a great 
monarch should be dependent upon one of his 
subjects for permission to do this or that, when 
he might have all his affairs under his own ab- 
solute control !" 

But Henry, in reply to this, said that it was 
not in human nature to escape mistakes, and 
he thought he was very fortunate in having a 
minister who, when he was in danger of mak- 
ing them, could interpose and save him from 
the ill consequences which would otherwise 
result from his errors. 

To this Margaret rejoined that it was indeed 
true that human nature was liable to err, but 
that it was very humiliating for a great and 
powerful sovereign to have public attention 
called to his errors by having them corrected 
in that manner by an inferior, and to be re- 
stricted in the exercise of his powers by a tutor 
and a governor, in order to keep him from do- 
ing wrong, as if he were a child not comjDCtent 
to act for himself. 



150 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1446. 

The world indulgent to the great. Margaret's secret designs. 

"Besides," she added, "if you would really 
take the charge of your affairs into your own 
hands and act independently, what you call 
your errors you may depend upon it the pub- 
lic would designate by a different and a softer 
name. The world is always disposed to con- 
sider what is done by a great and powerful 
monarch as of course right, and even when it 
would seem to them wrong they believe that 
its having that appearance is only because they 
are not in a position to form a just judgment 
on the question, not being fully acquainted 
with the facts, or not seeing all the bearings of 
them." 

She assured her husband, moreover, that if 
he would take the business of the government 
into his own hands, he would be very success- 
ful in his administration of public affairs, and 
would be well sustained by all the people of 
the realm. 

Besides thus operating upon the mind of the 
king, Margaret was secretly employed all the 
time in ascertaining the views and feelings of 
the principal nobles and other great person- 
ages of the realm, with a view to learning who 
were disposed to feel hostile to the duke, and 
to unite all such into an organized opposition 
to him. One of the first persons to whom she 



1446.] Plottings. 151 

Opposition to the Duke of Gloucester. Somerset. 

applied with this view was Somerset, the for- 
mer lover of Lady Neville. 

She presumed, of course, that Somerset would 
be predisposed to a feeling of hostility to the 
duke on account of the old rivalry which had 
existed between them, and she now proposed 
to make use of Lady Neville's return, and of 
her agency in restoring her to him, as a means 
of inducing him to enter fully into her plans 
for overturning his old rival's power. In order 
to retain the management of the affair wholly 
in her own hands, she agreed with Lady Nev- 
ille that Lady Neville herself was not in any 
way to communicate with Somerset until she, 
the queen, had first had an interview with him, 
and that he was to learn the safety of Lady 
Neville only through her. Lady Neville read- 
ily consented to this, believing that the queen 
could manage the matter better than she her- 
self could do it. 

It will be recollected that Somerset was mar- 
ried during the period of his former acquaint- 
ance with Lady Neville, but his wife had died 
while Lady Neville was in France, and he was 
now free ; so that the plan which the queen 
and Lady Neville now formed was to give him 
an opportunity, if he still retained his love for 
her, to make her his wife. 



152 Margaret of Anjou. [1446. 

A secret interview planned. The three conditions. 

In the prosecution of her design, the queen 
made arrangements for a secret interview with 
Somerset, and in the interview informed him 
that Lady Neville was still alive and well ; that 
she was, moreover, not far away, and it was in 
the queen's power to restore her to him if he 
desired again to see her, and that she would do 
so on certain conditions. 

Somerset was overjoyed at hearing this news. 
At first he could not be persuaded that it was 
true ; and when assured positively that it was 
so, and that the long-lost Lady Neville was 
alive and well, and in England, he was in a 
fever of impatience to see her again. He would 
agree to any conditions, he said, that the queen 
might name, as the price of having her restored 
to him. 

The queen said that the conditions were 
three. 

The first was that he was to see her but 
once, and that only for a few minutes, in order 
that he might be convinced that she was really 
alive, and then was to leave her and not to see 
her again until the Duke of Grloucester had 
fallen from power. 

The second was that he should pretend to be 
not on good terms with the queen herself, in 
order to avert suspicion in respect to some of 



1446.] Plottings. 153 

Party against Gloucester. The interview. Lady Neville's father. 

her schemes until such time as she should be 
ready to receive him again into favor. 

The third was that he should do all he could 
to increase and strengthen the party against the 
duke, by turning as many as possible of his 
friends, and those over whom he had any influ- 
ence, against him, and then finally, when the 
party should become suf&ciently strong, to pre- 
fer charges against him in Parliament, and 
bring him to trial. 

Somerset at once agreed to all these condi- 
tions, and the queen then admitted him to an 
interview with Lady Neville. 

He was overwhelmed with transports of love 
and joy at once more beholding her and press- 
ing her in his arms. The queen, who was pres- 
ent, was very much interested in witnessing 
the proofs of the ardor of the affection by which 
the lovers were still bound to each other, but 
she soon interrupted their expressions and dem- 
onstrations of delight by calling Somerset's at- 
tention to the steps which were next to be 
taken to further their plans. 

"The first thing to be done," said she, "is 
for you to see the Earl of Salisbury and ask 
the hand of his daughter, and at the same time 
endeavor to induce him to join our party.'' 

The Earl of Salisbury had a son, the broth- 



154 Margaret of Anjou. [1446. 

The Earl of Salisbury. Progress of the intrigue. Eevelations. 

er, of course, of Ladj JSTeville, whose title was 
the Earl of Warwick. He was the celebrated 
king-maker, so called, referred to in a former 
chapter. He received that title on account of 
the great influence which he subsequently ex- 
ercised in raising up and putting down one 
after another of the two great dynasties. His 
power was at this time very great, partly on 
account of his immense wealth, and partly on 
account of his commanding personal character. 
Margaret was extremely desirous of bringing 
him over to her side. l| 

Somerset readily undertook the duty of com- 
municating with the Earl of Salisbury, with a 
view of informing him of his daughter's safety 
and asking her hand, and at the same time of 
ascertaining what hope there might be of draw- 
ing him into the combination which the queen 
was forming against the Duke of Gloucester. 

Somerset accordingly sought an interview 
with Salisbury, and told him that the report 
which had been circulated that his daughter 
was dead was not true — that she was still alive 
— that, instead of having been drowned in the 
Thames, as had been supposed, she had made 
her escape to France, where she had since lived 
under the protection of the dauphiness. 

He was, of course, not willing to make known 



1446.] Plottings. 155 

The case explained. Somerset's proposal. Cautious advances. 

the real circumstances of the case in respect to 
the cause of her flight, and so he represented 
to the earl that the reason why she left the 
country was to escape the marriage with Glou- 
cester, which would have been extremely dis- 
agreeable to her. She had now, however, re- 
turned, and he was commissioned by her to 
ask the earl's forgiveness for what had passed, 
and his consent that he himself — that is, Somer- 
set, who had always been strongly attached to 
her, and who now, by the death of his former 
wife, was free, should be united to her in mar- 
riage. 

If Somerset had succeeded in this part of his 
mission, he was then intending, when the old 
earl's love for his daughter should have been 
reawakened in his bosom by the joyful news 
that she was alive, and by the prospect of a 
brilliant marriage for her, to introduce the sub- 
ject of the Duke of Gloucester, and perhaps 
cautiously reveal to him the true state of the 
case in respect to the murderous violence with 
which the duke had assailed his daughter, and 
which was the true cause of her flight. But 
the earl did not give him any opportunity to 
approach the second part of his commission. 
After having heard the statement which Som- 
erset made to him in respect to his daughter. 



156 Margaret of Anjou. [1446. 

The earl's indignation. The scheme fails. 

he broke out in a furious rage against her. 
He called her by the most opprobrious names. 
He had full proof of her dishonor, and he would 
have nothing more to do with her. He had 
disinherited her, and given all her share of the 
family property to her brother ; and the only 
reason why he ever wished her to come into 
his sight again was that he might with a surer 
blow inflict upon her the punishment which 
Gloucester had designed for her. 

Somerset saw at once that the case was 
hopeless, and he withdrew. 

Thus the attempt to draw Salisbury into the 
conspiracy against the duke seemed for the 
time to fail. But Margaret was not at all dis- 
couraged. She pushed her manoeuvres and 
intrigues in other quarters with so much dili- 
gence and success that, in about two years after 
her arrival in England, she found her party 
large enough and strong enough for action. 



1446.] The Fall of Gloucestek. 157 

The king's cabinet. Gloucester sent for. Entrance of S<^)iPfT'?et. 



A 



Chapter X. 

The Fall of Gloucester. 

T length the time arrived when Margaret 
considered her schemes ripe for execu- 
tion. 

Accordingly, one day, while Henry and her- 
self were together in the king s cabinet engaged 
in transacting some public affairs, Margaret 
made some excuse for sending for Gloucester, 
and while Gloucester was in the cabinet, Som- 
erset, according to a preconcerted arrangement, 
presented himself at the door with an air of 
excitement and alarm, and asked to be admit- 
ted. He wished to see the king on business of 
the utmost urgency. He was allowed to come 
in. He had a paper in his hand, and his coun- 
tenance, as well as his air and manner, denoted 
great apprehension and anxiety. As soon, 
however, as he saw the Duke of Gloucester, he 
seemed surprised and embarrassed, and was 
about to retire, saying he had supposed that 
the king and queen were alone. 

But Margaret would not allow him to with- 
draw. 

" Stay," said she, " and let us know what the 



158 Margaret of Anjou. [144:6. 

Somerset's charges. Margaret interposes. The charges read. 

business is that seems so urgent. You can 
speak freely. There is no one here beside our- 
selves except the minister of the king, and there 
is nothing to be concealed from him." 

Somerset, on hearing these words, paused for 
a moment, looked at Gloucester, seemed irreso- 
lute, and then, as if nerving himself to a great 
effort, he advanced resolutely and presented the 
paper which he had in his hands to the king, 
saying, at the same time, in a very solemn man- 
ner, that it contained charges of the gravest 
character against Gloucester; and he added 
that, on the whole, he was not sorry that the 
acciised person was present to know what was 
laid to his charge, and to reply if he had any 
proper justification to offer. 

The duke seemed thunderstruck. The king, 
too, was extremely surprised, and began to look 
greatly embarrassed. Margaret put an end to 
the awkward suspense by taking the paper from 
the king's hand, and opening it in order to read 
it. 

"Let us see," said she, *'what these charges 
are." 

So she opened the paper and began to read 
it. The charges were numerous. The princi- 
pal one related to some transactions in respect 
to the English dominions on the Continent, in 



1.446.] The Fall of Gloucester. 161 

The duke declares his innocence. 

which Gloucester was accused of having sac- 
rificed the rights and interests of the crown in 
order to promote certain private ends of his 
own. There were a great many other accusa- 
tions, relating to alleged usurpations of the pre- 
rogative of the king and high-handed violations 
of the laws of the land. Among these last the 
murder of Lady ISTeville was specified, and the 
deed was characterized in the severest terms as 
a crime of the deepest dye, and one committed 
under circumstances of great atrocity, although 
the author of the charges admitted that the de- 
tails of the affair were not fully known. 

As Margaret read these accusations one after 
another, the duke affirmed positively of each 
one that it was wholly unjust. He seemed for 
a moment surprised and confused when the 
murder of Lady Neville was laid to his charge, 
but he soon recovered himself, and declared 
that he was innocent of this crime as well as 
of all the others. The whole series of accusa- 
tions was a tissue of base calumnies, he said, 
from beginning to end. 

Margaret read the paper through, pausing 
only from time to time to liear what Gloucester 
had to say whenever he manifested a desire to 
speak, but without making any observations of 
aer own. She assumed, in fact, the air and 
L 



162 Maegaret of Anjou. [1446. 

Margaret's artful demeanor. Proposes an investigation. Selects a charge. 

manner of an unconcerned and indifferent wit- 
ness. After she liad finished reading the pa- 
per she folded it up and laid it aside, saying at 
the same time to the king that those were very 
grave and weighty charges, and it would be 
very unjust to the duke to receive them against 
his positive declarations of his innocence, with- 
out the most clear and conclusive proof. 

" At the same time," she added, "they ought 
not to be lightly laid aside without investiga- 
tion. We can not suppose that the Duke of 
Somerset can have made such, charges without 
any evidence whatever to sustain them." 

The Duke of Somerset said immediately that 
he was prepared with full proof of all the 
charges, and he was ready to offer the evidence 
in respect to any one or all of them whenever 
his majesty should require it. 

Margaret then opened the paper, and, looking 
over the list of charges again with a careless 
air, at last, as if accidentally, fixed upon the one 
relating to the murder of Lady Neville. 

"What proofs have you in respect to this 
atrocious murder that you have charged against 
the duke?" 

Grloucester felt for the moment much relieved 
at finding that this was the charge selected first 
for proof; for so effectual had been the precau- 



11446.] The Fall of Gloucestek. 163 

Gloucester is pleased. The murder. Astonishment of the duke. 

Itions which he had taken to conceal his crime 
;in this case, that he was confident that, instead 
of any substantial evidence against him, there 
could be, at worst, only vague grounds of sus- 
picion, and these he was confident he could 
easily show were insufficient to establish so se- 
rious a charge. 

Somerset asked permission to retire for a few 
moments. Yery soon he returned, bringing in 
with him Lady Neville herself. An actual res- 
urrection from the dead could not have astound- 
ed Grloucester more than this apparition. He 
was overwhelmed with amazement and almost 
with terror. Lady Neville advanced to the 
king, and, falling upon her knees before him, 
she related the circumstances of the assault 
made by Grloucester upon the boat in the 
Thames, of the cruel murder of the passengers 
and boatmen, of the wound inflicted upon her- 
self by the dagger of the duke, and the almost 
miraculous manner in which she made her es- 
cape. 

The duke, overwhelmed by the emotions 
which such a scene might have been expected 
to produce upon his mind, seemed to admit that 
what Lady Neville said was true. At least he 
could not deny it, and his confusion and distress 
amounted apparently to a virtual confession of 



164 Maegaret of Anjou. [1447. 

Parliament. Margaret's ingenuity. The king brought over. 

guilt. Margaret, however, soon interrupted the 
proceedings by saying to the king that the case 
was plainly too serious to be disposed of in so 
private and informal a manner. It was for the 
Parliament to consider it, she said, and decide 
what was to be done ; and measures ought at 
once to be taken for bringing it before them. 

So Gloucester and Somerset were both dis- 
missed from the royal presence, leaving the king 
in a state of great distress and perplexity. 

Such is the story of the private manoeuvres 
resorted to by Margaret with a view to destroy- 
ing the hold which the Duke of Gloucester had 
upon the mind of the king, preparatory to more 
widely-extended plans for ruining him with the 
Parliament and the nation, which is told by one 
of her most celebrated biographers. Whether 
there was or was not any foundation for this par- 
ticular story, there is no doubt but that she ex- 
ercised all her ingenuity and talent as a manoeu- 
vrer to accomplish her object, and that she suc- 
ceeded. The king was brought over to her 
views, and so strong a party was formed against 
Gloucester among the nobles and other influ- 
ential personages in the land, that at length, in 
1447, a Parliament was summoned with a view 
of bringing the affair to a crisis.* 

* The story of Lady Neville, and of her connection with 



1447.] The Fall of Gtloucester. 165 

Treason. Romance often mingles in history. An explanation. 

JSTotiiing, however, was said, in calling the 
Parliament, of the great and exciting business 
which was to be brought before them. So great 
was the power of such a man as Grioucester, that 
any open attempt to arrest him would have 
been likely to have been met with armed re- 
sistance, and might have led at once to civil 
war. 

One of the charges against him was that he 
was intriguing with the Duke of York, the rep- 
resentative and heir of the two other branches 
of old King Edward the Third's family, who 
has already been mentioned as claiming the 

the great political transactions in which Margaret of Anjou 
was engaged at this time, though it is in all probability to be 
considered as a romance, is not an invention of the compiler 
of this narrative. It is interwoven with the histoiy of Mar- 
garet of Anjou precisely as it is given here, by one of her 
most ancient and most oft-quoted biographers. It is chiefly 
useful to modem readers as illustrating the ideas and the 
manners of the times. 

"We often, in this series, thus repeat narratives which have 
come down from ancient times, and have thus become part 
and parcel of the literature of the period, and, as such, ought 
to be made known to the general reader, but which, at the 
present day, are not supposed to be historically true. In such 
cases, however, we intend alwaj^s to give notice of the fact. 
In the absence of such notice, the reader may feel sure that 
all the statements in these narratives, even to the minutest 
details, are in strict accordance with the testimony of the best 
authorities now extant. 



166 Margaret of Anjou. [1447. 

Question of succession. Position of the Duke of York, 

throne. It was said that Gloucester was secret- 
ly plotting with Eichard, with a view of depos- 
ing Henry, and raising Eichard to the throne in. 
his stead. 

The question of the succession was really, at 
this time, in a very curious state. The Duke 
of Gloucester himself was Henry's heir in case 
he should die without children ; for Gloucester 
was Henry's oldest uncle, and, of course, in de- 
fault of his descendants, the crown would go 
back to him. This was one reason, perhaps, 
why he had opposed Henry's marriage. 

So long, therefore, as Henry remained un- 
married, it was for Gloucester's interest to main- 
tain the rights of his branch of the family — that 
is, the Lancaster line — against the claims of the 
house of York. But in case Henry should 
have children, then he would be cut off from 
the succession on the Lancaster side, and then 
it might be for his interest to espouse the cause 
of the house of York, provided he could make 
better terms in respect to his own position and 
the rewards which he was to receive for his 
services on that side than on the other. 

Now Henry was married, and, moreover, it 
had long been evident to Gloucester that his 
own influence was fast declining. The scene in 
the king's cabinet, when Somerset brought those 



1447.] The Fall of Gloucestek. 167 

Gloucester alanned. Calling of Parliament. Bury St. Edmund's. 



charges against him, must have greatly increased 
his fears in respect to the continuance of his 
power under Henry's government. Still, if it 
was true that he was contemplating making 
common cause with the Duke of York, he had 
not yet so far matured his plans as to make any 
open change in his course of conduct. 

Accordingly, when the plan of calling a Par- 
liament was determined by the king and Mar- 
garet, every effort was made to keep it a secret 
from the public that the case of Gloucester was 
to be brought before it. It was summoned on 
other pretexts. The place of meeting was not, 
as usual, at London, for Gloucester was so great 
a favorite with the people of London that it 
was thought that, if it were to be attempted to 
arrest him there, he would certainly resist and 
attempt to raise an insurrection. 

The Parliament w^as accordingly summoned 
to meet at Bury St. Edmund's — a town situated 
about fifty or sixty miles to the northeast of 
London, where there was a celebrated abbey.* 
The English Parliament was in those days, as 
it is, in fact, in theory now, nothing more nor 
less than a convocation of the leading person- 
ages of the realm, called by the king, in order 
that they might give the monarch their counsel 

* See map. 



168 Maegaket of Anjou. [1447. 

The abbey. The duke arrested. 

or aid in any emergency that might arise, and 
he could call them to attend him at any place 
within the kingdom that he chose to designate. 

While thus, by summoning Parliament to 
meet at Bury St. Edmund's, the queen's par- 
ty placed themselves beyond the reach of the 
friends and adherents of Gloucester, who were 
very numerous in and around the capital, they 
took care to have a strong force there on their 
own side, ready to do whatever might be re- 
quired of them. 

When the appointed day arrived the Parlia- 
ment assembled. It met in the abbey. The 
great dining-hall of the abbey, or the refectory, 
as it was called, the room in which the monks 
were accustomed to take their meals, was fitted 
up for their reception. On the first day some 
ordinary business was transacted, and on the 
second, suddenly, and without any previous 
warning, the duke was arrested by the public 
officer, who was attended and aided in this serv- 
ice by a strong force, and immediately taken 
away to the Tower. 

This event, of course, produced great excite- 
ment. The news of it spread rapidly through- 
out the kingdom, and it awakened universal 
astonishment and alarm. 

It was expected that charges would be im- 



1447.] The Fall of Gloucestee. 169 

Discontents of the people. 

mediately brought against him, and that he 
would be at once arraigned for trial. But the 
excitement which the affair had created was in- 
creased to a ten-fold degree by the tidings which 
were circulated a few days afterward that he 
was dead. The story was that he was found 
dead one morning in his prison. People, how- 
ever, were slow to believe this statement. They 
thought that he had been poisoned, or put to 
death in some other violent manner. The offi- 
cers of the government declared that it was not 
so ; and, in order to convince the people that 
the duke had died a natural death, they caused 
the body to be exposed to public view for sev- 
eral days before they allowed it to be interred, 
in order that all might see that it bore no 
marks of violence. 

The people were, however, not satisfied. 
They thought that there were many ways by 
which death might be produced without leav- 
ing any outward indications of violence upon 
the person. They persisted in believing that 
their favorite had been murdered. 

One account which was given of the mode 
of death was that Somerset went to visit him 
in his prison in the Tower, in order to see 
whether he could not come to some terms with 
him, but that Gloucester rejected his advances 



170 Maegaret of Anjou. [1449. 



Supposed mode of his death. 



with SO much pride and scorn that a furious al- 
tercation arose, in the course of which Somer- 
set, with the assistance of men whom he had 
brought with him, strangled or suffocated the 
unhappy prisoner on his couch, and then, after 
arranging his limbs and closing his eyes, so as 
to give him the appearance of being in a state 
of slumber, his murderers went away and left 
him, to be found in that condition by the jailer 
when he should come to bring him his food. 



1449.] The Fall of Suffolk. 171 

Two years pass away. Suspicions of the people. 



Chapter XL 
The Fall of Suffolk. 

AFTER tlie death, of the Duke of Glouces- 
ter, Queen Margaret was plunged in a 
perfect sea of plots, schemes, manoeuvres, and 
machinations 'of all sorts, which it would take 
a volume fully to unravel. This state of things 
continued for two years, during which time she 
became more and more involved in the difficul- 
ties and complications which surrounded her, 
until at last she found herself in very serious 
trouble. I can only here briefly allude to the 
more prominent sources of her perplexity. 

In the first place, the people of England were 
very seriously displeased at the treatment which 
Grloucester had received. They would not be- 
lieve that he died a natural death, and the im- 
pression gained ground very generally that the 
queen was the cause of his being murdered. 
They did not suppose that she literally ordered 
him to be put to death, but that she gave hints 
or intimations, as royal personages were accus- 
tomed to do in such cases in those days, on 
which some zealous and unscrupulous follower 



172 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1449. 

Their hearts alienated. Reverses in France. Feeling in England. 

ventured to act, certain of pleasing her. As 
Gloucester had been a general favorite with 
the nation, these rumors and suspicions tended 
greatly to alienate the hearts of the people 
from the queen. Many began to hate her. 
They called her the French woman, and vented 
their ill-will in obscure threats and mutterings. 
This feeling of hostility to the queen was in- 
creased by the very unfortunate turn that things 
were taking in France about this time. The 
provinces of Maine and Anjou lay directly to 
the south of Normandy,'^ which last was the 
most valuable of the possessions which the En- 
glish crown held in France, and these two prov- 
inces had been given up to the French at the 
time of Margaret's marriage. It was only on 
condition that the English would give them up 
that Lord Suffolk could induce Margaret's fa- 
ther to consent to the match. Suffolk was ex- 
tremely unwilling to surrender these provinces. 
He knew that the English nobles and people 
would be very much dissatisfied as soon as 
they learned that it was done, and he feared 
that he might at some future day be called to 
account for having been concerned in the trans- 
action. But the king was so deeply iu love 
with Margaret that he insisted on Suffolk's 

* See map at the commencement of the volume. 



1449.] The Fall of Suffolk. 173 

York regent in France. Somerset. Suffolk's intentions. 

complying with the terms which were exacted 
by her friends, and the provinces were ceded. 

The Duke of York was regent in France at 
that time, but Margaret felt some uneasiness in 
respect to his position there. He was the rep- 
resentative and heir of the rival line ; and while 
it was for her interest to give him prominence 
enough under Henry's government to prevent 
his growing discontented and desperate, it was 
not good policy to exalt him to too high a po- 
sition. She was accordingly somewhat at a 
loss to decide what to do. 

Soon after the death of Gloucester, Somerset, 
finding that he was an object of suspicion, felt 
himself to be in danger, and he proposed to 
Margaret that he should retire into Normandy 
for a time. Margaret suggested that he should 
take the regency of Normandy in the Duke of 
York's stead. To this he finally consented. 
The Duke of York was recalled, and Somerset 
went to take command of Normandy in his 
stead. 

At the time that Suffolk negotiated the mar- 
riage contract between Henry and Margaret, a 
truce had been made with the King of France, 
as has already been stated. Suffolk intended 
and hoped to conclude a permanent peace, but 
he could not succeed in accomplishing this. 



174 Maegaret of Anjou. [1449. 

Exposed frontier. Pretext for war. 

The King of France, as soon as the marriage 
was fairly carried into effect, seemed bent on 
renewing hostihties, and as he had now the 
territories of Maine and Anjou in his posses- 
sion, with all the castles and fortresses which 
those provinces contained, he could advance to 
the frontiers of Normandy on that side with 
great facility, and organize expeditions for in- 
vading the country in the most effective man- 
ner. 

He now only wanted a pretext, and a pre- 
text in such cases is always soon found. A 
certain company of soldiers, who had been dis- 
missed from some place in Maine in consequence 
of the cession of that province to France, instead 
of going across the frontier into Normandy to 
join the English forces there, as they ought to 
have done, went into Brittany, another French 
province near, and there organized themselves 
into a sort of band of robbers, and sommitted 
acts of plunder. The King of France com- 
plained of this to Somerset, for this was after 
Somerset had assumed the command as regent, 
or governor of Normandy. Somerset admitted 
the facts, and proposed to pay damages. The 
king named a sum so great that Somerset could 
not or would not pay it, and so war was again 
declared. 



.■^^^^il^. 




lUd.] The Fall of Suffolk. 177 

Invasion of Normandy. Normandy lost. Rage of the English people. 

In consequence of the advantages which the 
King of France enjoyed in having possession 
of Maine, he could organize his invading army 
in a very effective manner. He crossed the 
frontier in great force, and after taking a num- 
ber of towns and castles, and defeating the En- 
glish army in several battles, he at last drove 
Somerset into Eouen, the capital of the province 
— a very ancient and remarkable town — and 
shut him up there. 

After a short siege Eouen w^as compelled to 
capitulate, and, besides giving up Eouen, Som- 
erset was obliged to surrender several other 
important castles and towns in order to obtain 
his own liberty. 

Things went on in this way during the year 
1449, from bad to worse, until finally the whole 
of Normandy was lost. The town of Cherbourg, 
which has lately become so renowned on ac- 
count of the immense naval and military works 
which have been constructed there, was the 
last retreat and refuge of the English, and even 
from this they were finally expelled. 

The people of England were in a great rage. 
The principal object of their resentment was 
Lord Suffolk, who was now the first minister 
and the acknowledged head of the govern- 
ment. During the progress of the difficulties 
M 



178 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1449. 

The minister responsible. Suffolk in danger, 

with Gloucester, Margaret bad kept him a great 
deal in the background, in order that the pub- 
lic might not associate him with those transac- 
tions, nor hold him in any way responsible for 
them, though there was no doubt that he was 
the queen's confidential friend and counselor 
through the whole. After the death of Glou- 
cester he had been gradually brought forward, 
and he had now, for some time, been the ac- 
knowledged minister of the crown, and as such 
responsible, according to the theory of the Brit- 
ish Constitution and to the ideas of English- 
men, for every thing that was done, and espe- 
ciall}^ for every thiug like misfortune and dis- 
aster which occurred. 

There was, of course, a great outcry raised 
against Suffolk, and also, more covertly, against 
the queen, who had brought Suffolk into pow- 
er. All the mischief originated, too, people 
said, in the luckless marriage of Margaret to 
the king, and the cession of Maine and Anjou 
to the French as the price of it. The French 
would never have been able to have penetra= 
ted into Normandy had it not been for the ad- 
vantage they gained in the possession of those 
provinces on the frontier. 

There were still large possessions held by 
the English in the southwestern part of France 



1449.] The Fall of Suffolk. 181 

Guienne. Burdeaus lost. Excitement in England. 

on the Garonne. The capital of this territory, 
which was the celebrated province of Guienne, 
was Bordeaux,^' a large and important city in 
those days as now. It stands on the bank of 
the river where it begins to widen toward the 
sea, and thus it was accessible to the English in 
their ships as well as when coming with their 
armies by land. It was a place of great strength 
as well as of commanding position, being pro- 
vided with castles and towers to defend it from 
the landward side, and thick walls and power- 
ful batteries along the margin of the water. 

Suffolk did all in his power to raise and send 
off re-enforcements to the army in Guienne, but 
it was in vain. The English were driven out 
of one town and castle after another, until, at 
last, Bordeaux itself fell, and all was lost. 

The resentment and rage of the people of 
England now knew no bounds. Suffolk was 
universally denounced as the author of all these 
dire calamities. Lampoons and satires were 
written against him ; he was hooted sometimes 
by the populace of London when he appeared 
in the streets, and every thing portended a 
gathering storm. At length, in the fall of 1449, 
a Parliament was summoned. When it was 
convened, Suffolk appeared in the House of 
* See map. 



182 Maegaret of Anjou. [1449. 

Braving the storm. Accusations made. An impeachment. 

Lords as usual, and, rising in his place, he call- 
ed the attention of the peers to the angry and 
vindictive denunciations which were daily heap- 
ed upon him by the public, declaring that he 
was wholly ignorant of the crimes which were 
laid to his charge, and challenging his enemies 
to bring forward any proof to sustain their ac- 
cusations. 

A spirit of bold defiance like this might have 
been successful in some cases, perhaps, in driv- 
ing back the tide of hostility and hate which 
was rising so rapidly, but in this instance it 
seemed to have the contrary effect. The ene- 
mies of Suffolk in the House of Commons took 
up the challenge at once. They were strong 
enough to carry the house with them. They 
passed an address to the peers, requesting them 
to cause Suffolk to be arrested and imprisoned. 
They would, they said, immediately bring for- 
ward the proofs of his guilt. 

The Lords replied that they could not arrest 
and imprison one of their number except upon 
specific charges made against him. Where 
upon the Commons very promptly prepared a 
list of charges and sent them to the Lords. On 
this accusation the Lords ordered Suffolk to be 
arrested, and he was sent to the Tower. 

During the two months that succeeded his 



1449.] The Fall of Suffolk. 183 

Suffolk in the Tower. He is aiTaigned. 

arrest his enemies were busily engaged in pre- 
paring the bill of impeachment against him in 
form, and collecting the evidence by which 
they were to sustain it, while the queen was 
equally earnest and anxious in the work of 
contriving means to save him. She visited him 
secretly, it is said, in his prison, and conferred 
with him on the plan to be pursued. They 
seem to have been both convinced that it was 
impossible for him to remain in England and 
ride out the storm. The only course of safety 
would be for him to leave the country for a 
while, provided the means could be devised for 
getting him away. What the plan was which 
they agreed upon for accomplishing this pur- 
pose will appear in the sequel. 

At length, on the thirteenth of March, he 
was summoned before the House of Lords, and 
the bill of impeachment was brought forward. 
There were a great many charges, beginning 
with that of having wickedly and with corrupt 
motives surrendered, and so lost forever to the 
crown, the provinces of Maine and Anjou, and 
going on to numerous accusations of malfeas- 
ance in office, of encroachments on the prerog- 
atives of the king, and of acts in which the in- 
terest and honor of the country had been sacri- 
ficed to his own personal ambition or private 



184: Maegaret of Anjou. [1449. 

Suffolk's defense. He appeals to the king. Sentence of banishment 

ends. Suffolk defended himself in a, general 
speech, without, however, demanding, as he 
was entitled to do, a formal trial hj. his peers. 
These proceedings occupied several days— ^as 
long as any lingering hope remained in Suf- 
folk's mind of his being able to stem the tor- 
rent. At length, however, on the seventeenth 
of March, finding that the pressure against him 
was continually increasing, and that there would 
be no chance of an acquittal if he were to claim 
a trial, he appealed to the king to decide his 
case, saying that, though he was entirely inno- 
cent of the crimes charged against him, he 
would submit himself entirely to his majesty's 
will. 

In response to this appeal, the king declared, 
through the proper officer, in the House of 
Lords, that he would not decide upon the ques- 
tion of the guilt or innocence of the accused, 
since he had not demanded a trial, but he 
thought it best, under all the circumstances of 
the case, that Suffolk should leave the country. 
He therefore issued a decree of banishment 
against him for five 3^ears. He was required 
to leave England before the first of May, and 
not to put his foot upon any English soil until 
the five years were expired. 

The Lords were much displeased at having 



1449.] The Fall of Suffolk. 185 

The people enrage J. A riot. Suffolk escapes by sea. 

the affair thus taken out of their hands. They 
made a formal protest against this decision, but 
they could do nothing more. The people, too, 
were very much enraged. They declared that 
Suffolk should never leave London alive ; and 
on the day when they expected that he was to 
be taken from the Tower to be conveyed to 
France, a mob of two thousand men collected 
in the streets, resolved to kill him. 

But the queen devised means for enabling 
him to evade them. Some of his servants and 
followers were seized, but he succeeded in mak- 
ing his escape, and, after going to his castle in 
the country, and making some hurried arrange- 
ments there, he went down to the sea-coast at 
Ipswich, a town in the eastern part of the isl- 
and, and there embarked for France in a vessel 
which the queen had taken the precaution to 
have ready there for him. 

The vessel immediately sailed, steering to the 
southward, of course, toward the Straits of Do- 
ver. As she was passing through the Straits, 
between Dover and Calais, a man-of-war named 
the Nicholas of the Tower, hove in sight, com- 
ing up to the vessel just as they were sending 
a boat on shore at Calais to inquire whether 
Suffolk would be allowed to land there. The 
boat was intercepted. At the same time, a boat 



136 MAKaARET OF Anjou. [1449. 

Suffolk made prisoner again. His execution in a boat. 

from the man-of-war came on board the vessel, 
bringing officers who were instructed to search 
her thoroughly. Of course, they found Suffolk 
on board, and the officer, as soon as Suffolk was 
discovered, informed him that he must go with 
him on board the man-of-war. 

Suffolk had no alternative but to obey. The 
captain of the man-of-war received him, as he 
stepped upon the deck, with the words, I am 
glad to see you, traitor, or something to that 
effect. Such a salutation must have plainly in- 
dicated to Suffolk what was before him. The 
man-of-war moved toward the English shore, 
and began to make signals to some parties on 
the land. She remained there for two days, 
exchanging signals in this way from time to 
time, and apparently awaiting orders. 

At length, on the third day, a boat came off 
from the shore, provided with every thing that 
was necessary for the execution of a criminal. 
There was a platform with a block upon it, an 
axe, or cleaver of some sort, and an execution- 
er. Suffolk was conveyed on board the boat, 
and there, with very little ceremony, his head 
was laid upon the block, and the executioner 
immediately commenced his task of severing it 
from the body. But, either from the unsteadi- 
ness of the boat, or the unsuitableness of the in- 



1449.] The Fall of Suffolk. 187 

Disposal of the body. 

strument, or the clumsiness of the operator, five 
several blows were required before the bloody 
deed was done. 

The boat immediately proceeded to the shore. 
The men on board threw out the dissevered re- 
mains upon the beach, and then went away. 

Some friends of Suffolk, hearing what had 
been done, came down to the beach, and, find- 
ing the separate portions of the body lying in 
the sand where they had been thrown, placed 
them reverently together again, and gave them 
honorable burial. 



188 Maegaeet of Akjou. [1453. 

Margaret in great trouble. The policy in respect to the Duke of York. 



Chaptee XIL 

BlETH OF A PeINCE. 

AFTEE the death of Suffolk the queen was 
plunged into a sea of anxious perplexities 
and troubles, which continued to disturb the 
kingdom and to agitate her mind, until at 
length, in 1453, eight or nine years after her 
marriage, she gave birth to a son. This event, 
strange as it may seem, aggravated the difii- 
culties of her situation in a ten-fold degree. 

The reason why the birth of her child in- 
creased her troubles was this. It has already 
been said that the Duke of York claimed to be 
the rightful sovereign of England on account 
of being descended from an older branch of the 
royal family ; but that, since Henry was estab- 
lished upon the throne, he was inclined to make 
no attempt to assert his claims so long as it was 
understood that he was to receive the kingdom 
at Henry's death. In order to keep him con- 
tented in this position, it had been Margaret's 
policy to treat him with great consideration, 
and to bestow upon him high honors, but, at 
the same time, to watch him very closely, and 



1453.] Birth of a Prince. 189 

Somerset's return to England. The people willing to wait. 

to avoid conferring upon him any such sub- 
stantial power within the realm of England 
as would enable him to attempt to seize the 
throne. She accordingly gave him the regen- 
cy of France, and afterward, when she recalled 
him from that country in order to send Somer- 
set there, she sent him to Ireland. 

After the death of Suffolk, Somerset came 
home from France. Indeed, he was on his way 
home at the very time that Suffolk was killed, 
the English possessions there having been al- 
most entirely lost. As soon as he returned, the 
queen leceived him into high favor at court, 
and soon made him the chief minister of the 
crown. The people of the country were dis- 
pleased at this, and soon showed marks of great 
discontent. They would very likely have risen 
in open rebellion had it not been that Henry's 
health was so feeble, and the probability was 
so great that he would die without issue — in 
which case the crown would devolve peaceful- 
ly to the Duke of York and his heirs. 

"Let us wait," said they, "for a short time, 
and it will all come right. It is better to bear 
the evils of this state of things a little longer 
than to plunge the country into the horrors of 
civil war in attempting to change the dynasty 
by force before Henry dies." 



190 Margaret of Anjou. [1453. 

Two parties formed. The nobles. The two leaders. 

In the mean time, however, although this 
was so far the prevailing public sentiment as 
to prevent an actual outbreak, it did not by 
any means save the community from being un- 
necessarily agitated by anxieties and fears lest 
an outbreak should take place, nor did it pre- 
vent innumerable plots and conspiracies being 
formed tending to produce one. The country 
was divided into two great parties — -those that 
favored the Duke of York and his dynasty, and 
those who adhered to the house of Lancaster. 
The nobles took sides in the quarrel, some 
openly and others in secret. As these nobles 
were continually moving to and fro from one 
castle to another, or between the country and 
London, at the head of armed bodies of men 
more or less formidable, no one could tell what 
plans were being formed, or how soon an ex- 
plosion might occur. The Duke of York was, 
of course, the head and leader of one side, and 
the Duke of Somerset, as the confidential coun- 
selor and minister of Henry and the queen, was 
the most prominent on the other side, and each 
of these great leaders regarded the other with 
feelings of mortal enmity. 

This state of things kept both the king and 
queen in continual anxiety. The queen began 
to find that, by her manoeuvrings and manage- 



1453.] Birth of a Prince. 193 

The Duke of York comes to England. The roses. 

ment, she had involved herself in difficulties 
that were beyond her control, and the poor 
king was so harassed by his troubles and per- 
plexities that his health, and, at last, his mind, 
began to suffer severely. 

At length the Duke of York, without per- 
mission from the government, crossed the Chan- 
nel from Ireland and landed in England. He 
soon collected a large armed force, and began 
to move across the country toward London. 
The government were much alarmed. He pro- 
fessed not to have any hostile object in view, 
and declared that he still acknowledged his al- 
legiance to the Lancaster line ; but there were 
no means of being sure that this was not a mere 
pretext, and that he might not, at any time, 
throw off his mask and rise in open rebellion. 

It was about this time that the famous sym- 
bols of the red and the white rose were chosen 
as the badges of the houses respectively of 
York and Lancaster, as has already been men- 
tioned. The story goes that at a certain time, 
while several nobles and persons of the court 
were walking in what is called the Temple 
Grarden, a piece of open and ornamental ground 
on the bank of the river in London, Somerset 
and Warwick, who were on different sides in 
this quarrel, gathered, the one a white, and the 
N 



194: Margaeet of Anjou. [1453. 



Origin of these symbols. An expedition. Anxiety of the king. 



Other a red rose, and proposed to the rest of 
the company to pluck roses too, each accord- 
ing to his own feelings and opinions. From 
this beginning the two colors became the per- 
manent badge of the two lines, so much so that 
artificial roses of red and white were manufac- 
tured in great numbers at last, to supply the 
soldiers of the respective armies. 

But to return to the Duke of York. When 
it was found that he was advancing toward 
London, Somerset urged the king to put him- 
self at the head of a body of troops and go out 
to meet him, and call him to account for his 
proceedings. The king did so, the queen ac- 
companying the expedition. She was very 
anxious, and felt much alarmed for the safety 
of the king. After various marchings and 
manoeuvrings, the two armies came near each 
other in the county of Kent, to the southeast- 
ward of London. King Henry, who was emi- 
nently a man of peace, being possessed of no 
warhke qualities whatever, and being extreme- 
ly averse to the shedding of blood, instead of 
attacking the Duke of York, sent a messenger 
to him to know what his intentions were in 
coming into the country at the head of such a 
force, and what he desired. 

The duke replied that he had no designs 



1453.] BiETH OF A Pkince. 195 

Professions. An appointment. Somerset concealed. 

against tlie king, but only against tlie traitor 
Somerset, and lie said that if tlie king would 
order Somerset to be arrested and brought to 
trial, he should be satisfied, and would disband 
his forces. 

The king, on receiving this message, was 
much troubled and perplexed, but at length 
he concluded, under the advice of some of his 
counselors, to comply with this demand. He 
caused Somerset to be arrested, and notified 
the Duke of York that he had done so. The 
Duke of York then disbanded his army, or at 
least sent the troops away, and made an ap- 
pointment to come unattended and visit the 
king in his tent, with a view to conferring with 
him on the terms and conditions of a perma- 
nent reconciliation. 

This inter^dew resulted in a very extraordi- 
nary scene. It seems that the queen had con- 
trived the means of secretly releasing Somerset 
after his arrest, and bringing him by stealth to 
the king's pavilion, and concealing him there 
behind the arras at the time the Duke of York 
was to be admitted, in order that he, Somerset, 
might be a witness of the interview. "While 
he was thus secreted, the Duke of York came 
in. He commenced his conference with the 
king by repeating earnestly what he said be- 



196 Margaret of Anjou. [1453. 

Scene in the tent. Fierce altercation. The Duke of York imprisoned. 

fore, namely, that lie had not been actuated in 
what he had done by any feeling of hostility 
against the king, but only against Somerset. 
His sole object in taking up arms, he said, was 
that that arch traitor might be brought to pun- 
ishment. 

On hearing these words, Somerset could con- 
tain himself no longer, but, to the astonish- 
ment of the Duke of York and to the utter 
consternation of the king, he rushed out from 
his hiding-place, and began to assail the duke 
with the most violent reproaches, alleging that 
his pretensions of friendship for Henry were 
false, and that the real design of his movements 
was to usurp the throne. The duke retorted 
with equally fierce denunciations and threats. 
During the continuance of this altercation, the 
king remained stupefied and speechless, and at 
length, when the duke retired, officers were 
ready at the door to arrest him, having been 
stationed there by the queen. 

He was held a prisoner, however, but a short 
time, for his son, who afterward became Edward 
lY., immediately commenced raising an army 
to come and release him. It was considered, 
for other reasons, dangerous to attempt to hold 
such a man in durance, since probably more 
than half the kingdom were on his side. So 



1453.] Birth of a Prince. 197 

Released. Birth of the prince. Question of the succession. 

he was offered his liberty on condition that he 
would take the new and solemn oath of fealty 
to the king. 

This he consented to do, and the oath was 
taken with great ceremony in St. Paul's Cathe- 
dral, and then he was dismissed. He went off 
to one of his castles in the country, muttering 
deep and earnest threats of vengeance. 

It was about a year after this that Margaret's 
babe was born. It was a son. 

Of course, the birth of this child immensely 
increased the difficulties and dangers in which 
the kingdom was involved, for it seemed to ex- 
tinguish the hope that the quarrel would be set- 
tled by the York family succeeding peaceably 
to the crown on the death of Henry. Now, at 
length, there was an heir to the Lancastrian line. 
Of course Margaret, and all those who were con- 
nected with the Lancastrian line, either by blood 
or political partisanship, would resolve to sup- 
port the rights of this heir. On the other hand, 
it was not to be supposed that the Duke of York 
would relinquish his claims, and he would no 
longer have any inducement to postpone assert- 
ing them. Thus the birth of the young prince 
was the occasion of plunging the country in 
new and more feverish excitement than ever. 
Plots and counter-plots, conspiracies and coun- 



198 Maegaret of Anjou. [1453. 

New difficulties. Prince ofWales. 



ter-conspiracies, were the order of the day. Ev- 
ery body was taking sides, or, at least, making; 
arrangements for taking sides, as soon as the 
outbreak should occur. And no one knew how 
soon this would be. 

The child was born on a certain religious 
holiday called St. Edward's day, and so they 
named him Edward. In a few months after his 
birth he was made Prince of Wales, and it is 
by this title only that he is known in history, 
for he never became king. 



1453.] Illness of the King. 199 

strange reverses. The king's insanity. 



I 



Chapter XIII. 
t Illness of the King. 

THE circumstances of poor Margaret's case 
seem to have reversed all ordinary condi- 
tions of domestic happiness. The birth of her 
son placed her in a condition of extreme and 
terrible danger, while the immediate bursting 
of the storm was averted, and the sufferings 
which she was in the end called upon to endure 
in consequence of it were postponed for a time 
by what would, in ordinary circumstances, be 
the worst possible of calamities, the insanity of 
her husband. Happy as a queen, says the prov- 
erb, but what a mockery of happiness is this, 
when the birth of a child is a great domestic ca- 
lamity, the evils of which were only in part 
averted, or rather postponed, by an unexpected 
blessing in the shape of the insanity of the hus- 
band and father. 

Henry's health had been gradually declining 
during many months before the little Edward 
was born. The cares and anxieties of his situ- 
ation, which often became so extreme as to de- 
prive him of all rest and sleep, became, at 



200 Margaket of Anjou. [1453. 

Hi3 condition concealed. Margaret's policy. Death of the archbishop. 



length, too heavy for him to bear, and his fee- 
ble intellect, in the end, broke down under them 
entirely. The queen did all in her power to 
conceal his condition from the people, and even 
from the court. It was comparatively easy to 
do this, for the derangement was not at all vi- 
olent in its form. It was a sort of lethargy, a 
total failure of the mental powers and almost of 
consciousness— more like idiocy than mania. 
The queen removed him to Windsor, and there 
kept him closely shut up, admitting that he 
was sick, but concealing his true situation so far 
as was in her power, and, in the mean time, car- 
rying on the government in his name, with the 
aid of Somerset and other great officers of state, 
whom she admitted into her confidence. Par- 
liament and the public were very uneasy under 
this state of things. The Duke of York was 
laying his plans, and every one was anxious to 
know what was coming. But Margaret would 
allow nobody to enter the king's chamber, un- 
der any pretext whatever, except those who 
were in her confidence, and entirely under her 
orders. 

At length, about two months after Edward 
was born, the highest dignitary of the Church, 
the Archbishop of Canterbury, died. This 
event, according to the ancient usages of the 



1454:.] Illness of the King. 201 

A deputation. The duke's policy. The duke made regent. 

realm, gave the House of Lords the right to 
send a deputation to the king to condole, with 
him, and to ascertain his wishes in respect to 
the measures to be adopted on the occasion. 

This committee accordingly proceeded to 
Windsor, and coming, as they did, under the 
authority of ancient custom, which in England, 
in those days, had even more than the force 
of law, they. could not be refused admission. 
They found the king lying helpless and uncon- 
scious, and they could not obtain from him any 
answer to what they said to him, or any sign 
that the slightest spark of intelligence remained 
in his mind. 

The committee reported these facts to the 
House of Lords. Finding how serious the 
king's illness was, the party of the Duke of 
York concluded to wait a little longer. There 
was a great probability that the king would 
Soon die. The life, too, of the infant son was of 
course very precarious. He might not survive 
the dangers of infancy, and in that case the 
Duke of York would succeed to the throne at 
once without any struggle. So a sort of com- 
promise was effected. Parliament appointed 
the Duke of York protector and defender of 
the king during his illness, or until such time 
as Edward, the young prince, should arrive 



202 Margaret of Anjou. [1454. 

The duke's hopes. Margaret dissatisfied. 

at the proper age for -andertaking the govern- 
ment. It was at this time that young Edward 
was made Prince of Wales. The conferring 
of this title upon him was confirmed by both 
houses of Parliament. They thus solemnly de- 
creed that, though the Duke of York was to 
exercise the government during the sickness 
of the king and the minority of Edward, still 
the kingdom was to be reserved for Edward 
as the rightful heir, and he was to be put into 
possession of the sovereign power, either as re- 
gent in case his father should continue to live 
until that time, or as king if, in the interim, 
he should die. 

The Duke of York and his friends acceded 
to this arrangement, in hopes that the prince 
never would arrive at years of discretion, but 
that, before many years, and perhaps before 
many months, both father and son would die. 
He thought it better, at any rate, to wait qui- 
etly for a time, especially as, during the period 
of this waiting, he was put in possession sub- 
stantially of the supreme power. 

Queen Margaret herself was extremely dis- 
satisfied with the arrangement by which the 
Duke of York was made regent, since it of 
course deprived her of all her power. But she 
could do nothing to prevent it. Besides, her 



1454.] Illness of the King. 203 

Her condition. She concludes to submit. 

mind was so filled with the maternal feelings 
and affections which her situation inspired and 
with the care of the infant child, that she had 
for a time no heart for political contention. 

Then, moreover, the Parliament, at the same 
time that they made the Duke of York regent, 
and thus virtually deprived the queen of her 
power, settled upon her an ample annuity, by 
means of which she would be enabled to live, 
with her son, in a state becoming her rank and 
her ambition. One motive, doubtless, which 
led them to do this was to induce her to acqui- 
esce in this change, and remain quiet in the j)0- 
sition in which they thus placed her. 

In addition to the liberal supplies which the 
Parliament granted to the queen, they made 
ample provision for maintaining the dignity 
and providing for the education of the young 
prince. Among other things, a commission of 
five physicians was appointed to watch over 
his health. 

Margaret was the more easily persuaded to 
acquiesce in these arrangements from believ- 
ing, as she did, that the state of things to which 
they gave rise would be of short duration. She 
fully believed that her husband would recover, 
and then the regency of the Duke of York 
would cease, and the king — that is, the king in 



204 Maegaret of Anjou. [1454. 

The queen's establishment at Greenwich, Her care of Henry. 

name, but slie herself in reality — would come 
into power again. So she determined to bide 
her time. 

She accordingly retired from London, and 
set up an establishment of her own in her pal- 
ace at Greenwich, where she held her court, 
and lived in a style of grandeur and ceremony 
such as would have been proper if she had 
been a reigning queen. Her old favorite, too, 
Somerset, was at first one of the principal per- 
sonages of her court ; but one of the first acts 
of the Duke of York's regency was to issue a 
warrant of arrest against him. The officers, in 
executing this warrant, seized him in the very 
presence-chamber of the queen, Margaret was 
extremely incensed at this deed. She declared 
that it was not only an act of political hostility, 
but an insult. She was, however, entirely help- 
less. The Duke of York had the power now, 
and she was compelled to submit. 

But she was not required to remain long in 
this humiliating position. She procured the 
best possible medical advice and attendance for 
her husband, and devoted herself to him with 
the utmost assiduity, and, at length, she had the 
satisfaction of seeing that he was beginning to 
amend. The improvement commenced in 'No- 
vember, about eight or ten months after he first 



1454.] Illness of the King. 205 

Recovery. The prince shown to him, Marks of returning consciousness. 

fell into the state of unconsciousness. When 
at length he came to himself, it seemed to him, 
he said, as if he was awaking from a long dream. 

Margaret was overjoyed to see these signs of 
returning intelligence. She longed for the time 
to come when she could show the king her boy. 
He had thus far never seen the child. 

We obtain a pretty clear idea of the state of 
imbecility or unconsciousness in which he had 
been lying from the account of what he did 
and said at the interview when the little prince 
was first brought into his presence. It is as 
follows : 

" On Monday, at noon, the queen came to 
him and brought my lord prince with her, and 
then he asked 'what the prince's name was,' 
and the queen told him ' Edward,' and then he 
held up his hands, and thanked God thereof. 

"And he said he never knew him till that 
time, nor wist what was said to him, nor wist 
where he had been, while he had been sick, 
till now ; and he asked who were the godfa- 
thers, and the queen told him, and he was well 
content. 

" And she told him the cardinal was dead,* 

* The Archbishop of Canterbury, the circumstance of 
whose death has already been referred to. 



206 Maegaket of Anjou. [1454. 



The king reinstated. 



and lie said lie never knew of it till tHs time; 
then lie said one of the wisest lords in this land 
was dead. 

" And my Lord of Winchester and my Lord 
of St. John of Jerusalem were with him the 
morrow after Twelfth day, and he did speak to 
them as well as ever he did, and when they 
came out they wept for joy. And he saith he 
is in charity with all the world, and so he would 
all the lords were. And now he saith matins 
of our Lady and even-song, and heareth his mass 
devoutly." 

The very first moment that the king was 
able to bear it, Margaret caused him to be con- 
veyed into the House of Lords, there to resume 
the exercise of his royal powers by taking his 
place upon the throne and performing some 
act of sovereignty. The regency was, of course, 
now at an end, and the Duke of York, leaving 
London, went off into the country in high dudg- 
eon. 

The queen, of course, now came into power 
again. The first thing that she did was to re- 
lease Somerset from his confinement, and rein- 
state him as prime minister of the crown. 



1454.] Anxiety and Teouble. 207 

A great deal of trouble. Angry disputes. Insubordination. 



Chapter XIY. 
Anxiety and Trouble. 

FOE about six years after this time, that is, 
from the birth of Prince Edward till he 
was six years old, and while Margaret was ad- 
vancing from her twenty-fourth to her thirtieth 
year, her life was one of continual anxiety, con- 
tention, and alarm. The Duke of York and 
his party made continual dif&culty, and the 
quarrel between him, and the Earl of Warwick, 
and the other nobles who espoused his cause, 
on one side, and the queen, supported by the 
Duke of Somerset and other great Lancastrian 
partisans on the other, kept the kingdom in a 
constant ferment. Sometimes the force of the 
quarrel spent itself in intrigues, manoeuvres, 
and plottings, or in fierce and angry debates in 
Parliament, or in bitter animosities and conten- 
tions in private and social life. At other times 
it would break out into open war, and again 
and again was Margaret compelled to leave her 
child in the hands of nurses and guardians, 
while she went with her poor helpless husband 
to follow the camp, in order to meet and over- 



208 Margaket of Anjou. [1454. 

Modes of amusing the king. The singing boys. 

come the military assemblages which the Duke 
of York was continually bringing together at 
his castles in the country or in the open fields. 

The king's health during all this period was 
so frail, and his mind, especially at certain times, 
was so feeble, that he was almost as helpless as 
a child. There was an hereditary taint of in- 
sanity in the family, which made his case still 
more discouraging. 

Queen Margaret took the greatest pains to 
amuse him, and to provide employments for 
him that would occupy his thoughts in a gentle 
and soothing manner. When traveling about 
the country, she employed minstrels to sing 
and play to him ; and, in order to have a con- 
stant supply of these performers provided, and 
to have them well trained to their art, she sent 
instructions to the sheriffs of the counties in all 
parts of the kingdom, requiring them to seek 
for all the beautiful boys that had good voices, 
and to have them instructed in the art of mu- 
sic, so that they might be ready, when called 
upon, to perform before the king. In the mean 
time they were to be paid good wages, and to 
be considered already, while receiving their in- 
struction, as acting under the charge and in the 
service of the queen. 

Margaret and the other friends of the king 



1454.] Anxiety and Trouble. 209 

Preteaded pilgrimages. The king comforted. One real pilgrimage. 

used to contrive various other ways of amusing 
and comforting his mind, some of which were 
not very honest. One was, for example, to 
have different nobles and gentlemen come to 
him and ask his permission that they should 
leave the kingdom to go and make pilgrimages 
to various foreign shrines, in order to fulfill 
vows and offer oblations and prayers for the 
restoration of his majesty's health. The king- 
was of a very devout frame of mind, and his 
thoughts were accustomed to dwell a great deal 
on religious subjects, and especially on the per- 
formance of the rites and ceremonies customa- 
ry in those days, and it seemed to comfort him 
very much to imagine that his friends were go- 
ing to make such long pilgrimages to pray for 
him. 

So the nobles and other great personages 
would ask his consent that they might go, and 
would take solemn leave of him as if they were 
really going, and then would keep out of sight 
a little while, until the poor patient had forgot- 
ten their request. 

It is said, however, that one nobleman, the 
Duke of Norfolk, who was so kind-hearted a 
man that he went by the name of the Good 
Duke, actually made the pilgrimage to Jerusa- 
lem on this errand, and there offered up prayers 
n 



210 Maegaret of Anjou. [1454. 

The philosopher's stone. Promised treasures. Intervals of good health. 

and supplications at the famous chapel of the 
Holy Sepulchre for the restoration of his sover- 
eign's health. 

They used also to amuse and cheer the 
king's mind by telling him, from time to time, 
that he was going to be supplied with inex- 
haustible treasures of wealth by the discovery 
of the philosopher's stone. The philosopher's 
stone was an imaginary substance which the 
alchemists of those days were all the time at- 
tempting to discover, by means of which lead 
and iron, and all other metals, could be turned 
to gold. There were royal laboratories, and 
alchemists continually at work in them mak- 
ing experiments, and the queen used to give 
the king wonderful accounts of the progress 
which they were making, and tell him that the 
discovery was nearly completed, and that very 
soon he would have in his exchequer just as 
much money as his heart could desire. The 
poor king fully believed all these stories, and 
was extremely pleased and gratified to hear 
them. 

There were times during this interval when 
the king was tolerably well, his malady being 
somewhat periodical in its character. This was 
the case particularly on one occasion, soon aft- 
er his first recovery from the state of total in- 



1454.] Anxiety and Trouble. 211 

Eestoration of Somerrxl. Armies marshaled. 

sensibility wliicli has been referred to. The 
Duke of York, as lias already been said, was 
put very much out of humor by the king's re- 
covery on this occasion, and by his own conse- 
quent deposition from the office of regent, and 
still more so when he found that the first act 
which the queen performed on her recovery 
of power was to release his hated enemy, Som- 
erset, from the prison where he, the Duke of 
York, had confined him, and make him prime 
minister again. He very soon determined that 
he would not submit to this indignity. He 
assembled an army on the frontiers of Wales, 
where some of his chief strong-holds were sit- 
uated, and assumed an attitude of hostility so 
defiant that the queen's government determined 
to take the field to oppose him. 

So they raised an army, and the Duke of 
Somerset, with the queen, taking the king with 
them, set out from London and marched to- 
ward the northwest. They stopped first at the 
town of St. Alban's.''^ When they were about 
to resume their march from St. Alban's, they 
saw that the hills before them were covered 
with bands of armed men, the forces of the 
Duke of York, which he was leading on to- 
ward the capital. Somerset's forces immediate- 

* See. map. 



212 Maegaret of Anjou. [1454. 

St. Alban's. The parley. Reply. Attack on the town. 

\j returned to the town. Margaret, who was for 
a time greatly distressed and perplexed to de- 
cide between her duty toward her husband and 
toward her child, finally concluded to retire to 
Grreenwich with the little prince, and await 
there the result of the battle, leaving the Duke 
of Somerset to do the best he could with the 
king. 

Yery soon a herald came from the Duke of 
York to the gates of St. Alban's, and demanded 
a parley. He said that the duke had not tak- 
en arms against the king, but only against 
Somerset. He professed great loyalty and af- 
fection for Henry himself, and only wished to 
save him from the dangerous counsels of a cor- 
rupt and traitorous minister, and he said that 
if the king would deliver up Somerset to him, 
he would at once disband his armies, and the 
difficulty would be all at an end. 

The reply sent to this was that the king de- 
clared that he would lose both his crown and 
his life before he would deliver up either the 
Duke of Somerset or even the meanest soldier 
in his army to such a demand. 

The Duke of York, on receiving this answer, 
immediately advanced to attack the town. For 
some time Henry's men defended the walls and 
gates successfully against him, but at length 



1454.] Anxiety and Trouble. 213 

Terrible conflict. The king taken prisoner. The duke's deameanor. 

the Earl of Warwick, who was the Duke of 
York's principal confederate and supporter in 
this movement, passed with a strong detach- 
ment by another way round a hill, and through 
some gardens, and thence, by breaking down 
the wall which stood between the garden and 
the town, he succeeded in getting in. A ter- 
rible conflict then ensued in the streets and 
narrow lanes of the city, and the attention of 
the besieged being thus drawn off from the 
walls and the gates, the Duke of York soon 
succeeded in forcing his way in too. 

King Henry's forces were soon routed with 
great slaughter. The Duke of Somerset and 
seyeral other prominent nobles were killed. 
The king himself was wounded by an arrow, 
which struck him in the neck as he was stand- 
ing Tinder his banner in the street with his 
officers around him. When these his attend- 
ants saw that the battle was going against him, 
they all forsook him and fled, leaving him by 
his banner alone. He remained here quietly 
for some time, and then went into a shop near 
by, where presently the Duke of York found 
him. 

As soon as the Duke came into the king's 
presence he kneeled before him, thus acknowl- 
edging him as king, and said, 



214 Margaeet OF Anjou. [1457. 

The king conveyed to London. Margaret's despair. 

"The traitor and public enemy against whom 
we took "up arms is dead, and now there will 
be no farther trouble." 

" Then," said the king, " for God's sake, go 
and stop the slaughter of my subjects." 

The duke immediately sent orders to stop 
the fighting, and, taking the king by the hand, 
he led him to the Abbey of St. Alban's, a vener- 
able monastic edifice, greatly celebrated in the 
histories of these times, and there caused him 
to be conveyed to his apartment. The next 
day he took him to London. He rendered him 
all external tokens of homage and obedience 
by the way, but still virtually the king was his 
prisoner. 

Poor Queen Margaret was all this time at 
Greenwich, waiting in the utmost suspense and 
anxiety to hear tidings of the battle. When, 
at length, the news arrived that the battle had 
been lost, that the king had been wounded, and 
was now virtually a prisoner in the hands of 
her abhorred and hated enemy, she was thrown 
into a state of utter despair, so much so that 
she remained for some hours in a sort of stupor, 
as if all was now lost, and it was u.seless and 
hopeless to continue the struggle any longer. 

She however, at length, revived, and began 
to consider again what was to be done. The 



1-457.] Anxiety and Tkouble. 215 

Tlie king's wound. The queen and the prince. Grand reconciliation. 

prospect before her, however, seemed to grow 
darker and darker. The fatigue and excite- 
ment which the king had suffered, joined to the 
effects of his wound, which seemed not disposed 
to heal, produced a relapse. The Duke of York 
appears to have considered that the time had 
not yet come for him to attempt to assert his 
claims to the throne. He contented himself 
with so exhibiting the condition of the king to 
members of Parliament as to induce that body 
to appoint him protector again. "When he had 
thus regained possession of power, he restored 
the king to the care of the queen, and sent her, 
with him and the little prince, into the country. 
One of the most extraordinary circumstances 
which occurred in the course of these anxious 
and troubled years was a famous reconciliation 
which took place at one time between the par- 
ties to this great quarrel. It was at a time 
when England was threatened with an inva- 
sion from France. Queen Margaret proposed 
a grand meeting of all the lords and nobles on 
both sides, to agree upon some terms of pacifi- 
cation by which the intestine feud which di- 
vided and distracted the country might be heal- 
ed, and the way prepared for turning their united 
strength against the foe. But it was a very 
dangerous thing to attempt to bring these tur- 



216 Margaeet of Anjou. [1-158. 

Mutual distrust. Meeting of the nobles. Armed bands. 

bulent leaders together. They had no confi- 
dence m each other, and no one of them would 
be willing to come to the congress without 
bringing with him a large armed force of fol- 
lowers and retainers, to defend him in case of 
violence or treachery. Finally, it was agreed 
to appoint the Lord-mayor of London to keep 
the peace among the various parties, and, to 
enable him to do this effectually, he was pro- 
vided with a force of ten thousand men. These 
men were volunteers raised from among the 
citizens of London. 

When the time arrived for the meeting, the 
various leaders came in toward London, each 
at the head of a body of retainers. One man 
came with five hundred men, another with four 
hundred, and another with six hundred, who 
were all dressed in uniform with scarlet coats. 
Another nobleman, representing the great Percy 
family, came at the head of a body of fifteen 
hundred men, all his own personal retainers, 
and every one of them ready to fight any where 
and against any body, the moment that their 
feudal lord should give the word. 

These various chieftains, each at the head of 
his troops, came to London at the appointed 
time, and established themselves at different 
castles and strong-holds in and around the cit3^, 



1458.] Anxiety and Trouble. 217 

Disputes and (iebate3. The treaty. Procession. 

like SO many independent sovereigns coming 
together to negotiate a treaty of peace. 

They spent two whole months in disputes 
and debates, in which the fiercest invectives and 
the most angry criminations and recriminations 
were uttered continually on both sides. At 
length, marvelous to relate, they came to an 
agreement. All the points in dispute w^ere ar- 
ranged, a treaty was signed, and a grand recon- 
ciliation — that is, a pretended one — was the re- 
sult. 

This meeting was convened about the mid- 
dle of January, and on the twenty-fourth of 
March the agreement was finally made and rat- 
ified, and sealed, in a solemn manner, by the 
great seal. It contained a great variety of 
agreements and specifications, which it is not 
necessary to recapitulate here, but when all was 
concluded there was a grand public ceremony 
in commemoration of the event. 

At this celebration the king and queen, wear- 
ing their crowns and royal robes, walked in 
solemn procession to St. Paul's Cathedral in the 
city. They w^ere followed by the leading peers 
and prelates walking two and two ; and, in or- 
der to exhibit to public view the most perfect 
tokens and pledges of the fallness and sincerity 
of this grand reconciliation, it was arranged that 



218 Margaret of Anjou. [1458. 

Mock reconciliation. Fighting again. The priace's journey. 

those who had been most bitterly hostile to 
each other in the late quarrels should be pair- 
ed together as they walked. Thus, immediate- 
ly behind the king, who walked alone, came the 
queen and the Duke of York walking together 
hand in hand, as if they were on the most lov- 
ing terms imaginable, and so with the rest. 

The citizens of London, and vast crowds of 
other people who had come in from the sur- 
rounding towns to witness the spectacle, joined 
in the celebration by forming lines along the 
streets as the procession passed by, and greet- 
ing the reconciled pairs with long and loud ac- 
clamations ; and when night came, they bright- 
ened up the whole city with illuminations of 
their houses and bonfires in the streets. 

In about a year after this the parties to this 
grand pacification were fighting each other 
more fiercely and furiously than ever. 

At one time, when the little prince was about 
six years old, the queen made a royal progress 
through certain counties in the interior of the 
country, ostensibly to benefit the king'^s health 
by change of air, and by the gentle exercise and 
agreeable recreation afforded by a journey, but 
really, it is said, to interest the nobles and the 
people of the region through which she passed 
in her cause, and especially in that of the little 



1458.] Anxiety and Trouble. 221 

The little swans. War breaks out again. 

prince, whom she took on that occasion to show 
to all the people on her route. She had adopt- 
ed for him the device of his renowned ancestor, 
Edward III., which was a swan ; and she had 
caused to be made for him a large number of 
small silver swans, which he was to present to 
the nobles and gentlemen, and to all who were 
admitted to a personal audience, in the towns 
through which he passed. He was a bright 
and beautiful boy, and he gave these little 
swans to the people who came around him with 
such a sweet and charming grace, that all who 
saw him were inspired with feelings of the 
warmest interest and affection for him. 

Yery soon after this time the war between 
the two great contending parties broke out 
anew, and took such a course as very soon de- 
prived King Henry of his crown. The events 
which led to this result will be related in the 
next chapter. 



222 Maegaret of Anjou. [1459. 

The battle of Bloi'e Heath. The queen's orders. Decorations. 



Chapter XY. 
Margaret a Fugitive. 

IN the summer of 1459, the year after the 
grand reconciliation took place which is de- 
scribed in the last chapter, two vast armies, be- 
longing respectively to the two parties, which 
had been gradually gathering for a long time, 
came up together at a place called Blore Heath,"^ 
in Staffordshire, in the heart of England. A 
great battle ensued. During the battle Henry 
lay dangerously ill in the town of Coleshill, 
which was not far off. Margaret was at Mac- 
cleston, another village very near the field of 
battle. From the tower .of the church in Mac- 
cleston she -watched the progress of the fight. 
Salisbury was at the head of the York party. 
Margaret's troops were commanded by Lord 
Audley. When Audley took leave of her to 
go into battle, she sternly ordered him to bring 
Salisbury to her, dead or alive. 

Audley had ten thousand men under his 
command. The soldiers were all adorned with 
red rosettes, the symbol of the house of Lancas- 
* For the situation of Blore Heath, see ma^i. 



1459.] Margaret a Fugitive. 223 

Battle lost. Feeble condition of the king. Spirit and temper of the queen, 

ter. The officers wore little silver swans upon 
their uniform, such as Prince Edward had dis- 
tributed. 

The queen watched the progress of the bat- 
tle with intense anxiety, and soon, to her con- 
sternation and dismay, she saw that it was go- 
ing against her. She kept her eyes upon Aud- 
ley's banner, and when, at length, she saw it 
fall, she knew that all was lost. She hurried 
down from the tower, and, with a few friends 
to accompany her, she fled for her life to a 
strong-hold belonging to her friends that was 
not at a great distance. 

The king, too, had to be removed, in order 
to prevent his being taken prisoner. He was, 
however, too feeble to know much or to think 
much of what was going on. When they came 
to take him on his pallet to carry him away, 
he looked up and asked, feebly, " who had got 
the day," but beyond this he gave no indica- 
tion of taking any interest in the momentous 
events that were transpiring. 

This defeat, instead of producing a discour- 
aging and disheartening effect upon Margaret's 
mind, only served to arouse her to new vigor 
and determination. She had been somewhat 
timid and fearful in the earlier part of her 
troubles, when she had only a husband to think 



224 Margaret of Anjou. [1460. 

Success of her efforts. The Earl of "Warwick. 

of and to care for. But now she had a son ; 
and the maternal instinct seemed to operate in 
her case, as it has done in so many others, to 
make her fearless, desperate, and, in the end, 
almost ferocious, in protecting her offspring 
from harm, and in maintaining his rights. She 
immediately engaged with the utmost zeal and 
ardor in raising a new army. She did not trust 
the command of it to any general, but directed 
all the operations of it herself There is not 
space to describe in detail the campaigns that 
ensued, but the result was a complete victory. 
Her enemies were, in their turn, entirely de- 
feated, and the two great leaders, the Duke of 
York and the Earl of Warwick, were actually 
driven out of the kingdom. The Duke of York 
retreated to Ireland, and the Earl of Warwick 
went across the Straits of Dover to Calais, which 
was still in English possession, and a great na- 
val and military station. 

In a very short time after this, however, 
Warwick came back again with a large armed 
force, which he had organized at Calais, and 
landed in the southern part of England. He 
marched toward London, carrying all before 
him. It was now his party's turn to be victo- 
rious; for by the operation of that strange prin- 
ciple which seems to regulate the ups and downs 



1460.] Maegaret a Fugitive. 225 



His successful advance. Northampton. The king made captive. 

of opposing political parties in all countries and 
in all ages, victory alternates between them 
with almost the regularity of a pendulum. The 
current of popular sentiment, which had set so 
strongly in favor of the queen's cause only a 
short year before, appeared to be now altogeth- 
er in favor of her enemies. Every body flocked 
to Warwick's standard as he marched north- 
wardly from the coast toward London, and at 
London the people opened the gates of the city 
and received him and his troops as if they had 
been an army of deliverers. 

Warwick did not delay long in London. 
He marched to the north to meet the queen's 
troops. Another great battle was fought at 
Northampton. Margaret watched the progress 
of the flght from an eminence not far distant. 
The day went against her. The result of the 
battle was that the poor king was taken prison- 
er the second time and carried in triumph to 
London. 

The captors, however, treated him with great 
consideration and respect — not as their enemy 
and as their prisoner, but as their sovereign, 
rescued by them from the hands of traitors and 
[foes. The time had not even yet come for the 
York party openly to avow their purpose of 
deposing the king. So they conveyed him to 
P 



226 Margaret of Anjou. [1460. 

Parliament summoned. The king. The duke's pretensions. 

London, and lodged him in the palace there, 
where he was surrounded with all the emblems 
and marks of royalty, but was still, neverthe- 
less, closely confined. 

The Duke of York then summoned a Par- 
liament, acting in the king's name, of course, 
that is, requiring the king to sign the writs and! 
other necessary documents. It was not until 
October that the Parliament met. During the 
interval the king was lodged in a country place 
not far from London, where every effort was 
made to enable him to pass his time agreeably, 
by giving him an opportunity to hunt, and to 
amuse and recreate himself with other out-door ■ 
amusements. All the while, however, a strict 
watch was kept over him to prevent the possi- 
bility of his making his escape, or of the friends 
of the queen coming secretly to take him away.' 

As for the queen and the little prince, none 
knew what had become of them. 

When Parliament met, a very extraordinary 
scene occurred in the House of Lords, in which 
the Duke of York was the principal actor, and 
which, excited a great sensation. Up to this 
time he had put forward no actual claim to the 
throne in behalf of his branch of the family, 
but in all the hostilities in which he had he&n' 
engaged against the king's troops, his object hac' 



1460.] Margaret a Fugitive. 227 

The duke comes to Parliament. Scene in the House of Lords. 

been, as lie had always said, not to oppose the 
king, but only to save him, by separating him 
from the evil influences which surrounded him. 
But he was now beginning to be somewhat 
more bold. 

Accordingly, when Parliament met, he came 
into London at the head of a body-guard of five 
hundred horsemen, and with the sword of state 
borne before him, as if he were the greatest per- 
sonage in the realm. He rode directly to West- 
minster, and, halting his men with great parade 
before the doors of the hall where the House 
of Lords was assembled, he went in. 

He advanced directly through the hall to the 
raised dais at the end on which the throne was 
placed. He ascended the steps, and walked to 
the throne, the whole assembly looking on in 
solemn awe, to see what he was going to do. 
Some expected that he was going to take his 
seat "upon the throne, and thus at once assume 
the position that he was the true and rightful 
sovereign of England. He, however, did not 
do so. He stood by the throne a few minutes, 
with his hand upon the crimson cloth which 
covered it, as if hesitating whether to take his 
seat or not, or perhaps waiting for some intima- 
tion from his partisans that he was expected to 
do so. But for several minutes no one spoke 



228 Margaeet of Anjou. [1460. 

His haughty demeanor. Henry's reasoning. 

a word. At length the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury, who was hi some respects the most exalt- 
ed personage in the House of Lords, asked him 
if he would be pleased to go and visit the king, 
who was at that time in an adjoining apartment. 
He replied in a haughty tone, 

" I know no one in this realm whose duty it 
is not rather to visit me than to expect me to 
visit him." 

He then turned and walked proudly out of 
the house. 

Although he thus refrained from actually 
seating himself upon the throne, it was evident 
that the time was rapidly drawing near when 
he would openly assert his claim to it, and some 
of the peers, thinking perhaps that Henry could 
be induced peaceably to yield, consulted him 
upon the subject, asking him which he thought 
had the best title to the crown, himself or the 
Duke of York. 

To this question Henry replied, 

"My father was king; his father was king. 
I have myself worn the crown for forty years, 
from my cradle. You have all sworn fealty to 
me as your sovereign, and your fathers did the 
same to my father and to my grandfather. 
How, then, can any one dispute my claim ?" 

What Henry said was true. The crown had 



1460.] Margaret a Fugitive. 229 

Contesting claims. Decision of the question. 

been in his branch of the royal line for three 
generations, and for more than half a century, 
daring all which time the whole nation had ac- 
quiesced in their rule. The claim of the Duke 
of York ran back to a period anterior to all 
this, but he maintained that it was legitimate 
and valid, notwithstanding. 

There followed a series of deliberations and 
negotiations, the result of which was a decision 
on the part of Parliament that the Duke of 
York and his successors were really entitled to 
the crown, but that, by way of compromise, it 
was not to be in form transferred to them until 
after the death of Henry. So long as he should 
continue to live, he was to be nominally king, 
but the Duke of York was to govern as regent, 
and, at Henry's death, the crown was to descend 
to him. 

The duke was satisfied with this arrange- 
ment, and the first thing to be done, in order to 
secure its being well carried out, was to get the 
little prince, as well as Henry, the king, into his 
possession ; for he well knew that, even if he 
were to dispose of the old king, and establish 
himself in possession of the throne, he could 
have no peace or quietness in the possession of 
it so long as the little prince, with his mother, 
was at large. 



230 Margaret of Anjou. [1460. 



The queen commanded to return. 



So he found means to induce the king to sign 
a mandate commanding the queen to come to 
London and bring the prince with her. This 
mandate she was required to obey immediately, 
under penalty^ in case of disobedience, of being 
held guilty of treason. 

Officers were immediately dispatched in all 
directions to search for the queen, in order to 
serve this mandate upon her, but she was no- 
where to be found. 



1460.] Margaret Triumphant. 231 

Sudden reverses. Retreat to Scotland. 



Chapter XYI. 
Margaret Triumphant. 

THEEE followed after this time a series of 
very rapid and sudden reverses, by which 
first one party and then the other became al- 
ternately the victors and the vanquished, 
through changes of fortune of the most extra- 
ordinary character. 

At the end of the battle described in the last 
chapter, Margaret found herself, with the little 
prince, a helpless fugitive. There were only 
eight persons to accompany her in her flight, 
and so defenseless were they, and such was the 
wild and lawless condition of the country, that 
it was said her party was stopped while on their 
way to Wales, and the queen was robbed of all 
her jewels and other valuables. Both she and 
the prince would very probably, too, have been 
made prisoners and sent to London, had it not 
been that, while the marauders were busy with 
their plunder, she contrived to make her escape. 

She remained a very short time in "Wales, 
and then proceeded by sea to Scotland, where 
her party, and she herself personally, had pow- 



232 Maegaret of Anjou. [1460. 

The queen re-enters England. Success. Movement of the duke. 

erful friends. By the aid of these friends, and 
through the influence of the indomitable spirit 
and resolution which she displayed, she was 
soon supplied with a new force. At the head 
of this force she crossed the frontier into En- 
gland. The people seemed every where to pity 
her misfortunes, and they were so struck with 
the energy and courage she displayed in strug- 
gling against them, and in braving the dreadful 
dangers which surrounded her in defense of the 
rights of her husband and child, that they flock- 
ed to her standard from all quarters, and thus. 
in eight days from the time that the mandate 
was issued from London commanding her to 
surrender herself a prisoner, she appeared in the 
vicinity of the city of York, the largest and 
strongest city in all the north of England, at the 
head of an overwhelming force. 

The Duke of York was astounded when this 
intelligence reached him in London. There 
was not a moment to be lost. He immediately 
set out with all the troops which he could com- 
mand, and marched to the northward to meet 
the queen. At the same time, he sent orders to 
the other leaders of his party, in different parts 
of England, to move to the northward as rap- 
idly as possible, and join him there. 

The duke himself arrived first in the vicinity 



1460.] Margaket Triumphant. 233 

Battle of Wakefield, Death of the Duke of York. 

of the queen's army, but he thought he was not 
strong enough to attack her, and he according- 
ly concluded to wait until his re-enforcements 
should come up. The queen advanced with a 
much superior force to meet him. The two ar- 
mies came together near the town of Wakefield, 
and here, after some delay, during which the 
queen continually challenged the duke to come 
out from his walls and fortifications to meet her, 
and defied and derided him with many taunts 
and reproaches, a great battle was finally fought. 
Margaret's troops were victorious. Two thou- 
sand out of five thousand of the duke's troops 
were left dead upon the field, and the duke him- 
self was slain ! 

Margaret's heart was filled with the wildest 
exultation and joy when she heard that her in- 
veterate and hated foe at last was dead. She 
could scarcely restrain her excitement. One of 
the nobles of her party. Lord Clifford, whose 
father had been killed in a previous battle un- 
der circumstances of great atrocity, cut off the 
duke's head from his body, and carried it to 
Margaret on the end of a pike. She was for a 
moment horror-stricken at the ghastly specta- 
cle, and turned her face away ; but she finally 
ordered the head to be set up upon a pole on 
the walls of York, in view of ^all beholders. 

A young son of the duke's, the Earl of Rut- 



234 Margaeet of Anjou. [1460. 



Murder of his son. Margaret's cruelties. Her exultation. 

land, who was then about twelve years old, was 
also killed, or rather massacred, on the field of 
battle, after the fight was over, as he was en- 
deavoring to make his escape, under the care 
of his tutor, to a castle near, where he would 
have been safe. This was the castle of Sandal. 
It was a very strong place, and was in the pos- 
session of the Duke of York's party. The poor 
boy was cut down mercilessly by the same Lord 
Clifford who has already been spoken of, not- 
withstanding all that his tutor could do to save 
him. 

Other most atrocious murders were commit- 
ted at the close of this battle. The Earl of Sal- 
isbury was beheaded, and his head was set up 
upon a pike on the walls of York, by the side 
of the duke's. Margaret was almost beside her- 
self at the results of this victory. Her armies 
triumphant, the great leader of the party of her 
enemies, the man who had been for years her 
dread and torment, slain, and all his chief con- 
federates either killed- or taken prisoners, and 
nothing now apparently in the way to prevent 
her marching in triumph to London, liberating 
her husband from his thraldom, and taking 
complete and undisputed possession of the su- 
preme power, there seemed, so far as the pros- 
pect now before her was concerned, to be noth- 
mg more to desire. 



-{Ml 




,'y^\^. 



1460.] Margaeet an Exile. 237 

A new reverse. Reaction, 



Chapter XYIL 
Margaret an Exile. 

BEIGrHT as were the hopes and prospects of 
Margaret after the battle of Wakefield, a 
few short months were sufficient to involve her 
cause again in the deepest darkness and gloom. 
The battle of Wakefield, and the death of the 
Duke of York, took place near the last of De- 
cember, in 1460. In March, three months later, 
Margaret was an exile from England, outlawed 
by the supreme power of the realm, and placed 
under such a ban that it was forbidden to all 
the people of England to have any communi- 
cation with her. 

This fatal result was brought about, in a great 
measure, by the reaction in the minds of the 
people of the country, which resulted from the 
shocking cruelties perpetrated by her and by 
her party after the battle of Wakefield. The 
accounts of these transactions spread through 
the kingdom, and awakened a universal feel- 
ing of disgust and abhorrence. It was said that 
when Lord Clifford carried the head of the Duke 
of York to Margaret on the point of a lance, 



238 Maegaret of Anjou. [1460. 

Head of the Duke of York. The country shocked. Margaret's ferocity. 

followed by a crowd of other knights and no- 
bles, be said to ber, 

" Look, madam ! Tbe war is over ! Here is 
tbe ransom for tbe king !" 

Tben all tbe by-standers raised a sbout of 
exultation, and began pointing at tbe gbastly 
bead, witb mockings and derisive laughter. 
They bad put a paper crown upon tbe bead, 
which they seemed to think produced a comic 
effect. The queen, though at first she averted 
ber face, soon turned back again toward the 
horrid trophy, and laughed, with tbe rest, at the 
ridiculous effect produced by the paper crown. 

The murder, too, of the innocent child, tbe 
duke's younger son, produced a great and very 
powerful sensation throughout the land. Tbe 
queen, though she bad not, perhaps, command- 
ed this deed, still made herself an accessory by 
commending it and exulting over it. Tbe fe- 
rocious bate with which she was animated 
against all the family of her fallen foe was also 
shown by another circumstance, and that was, 
that when she commanded the two beads, viz., 
that of the Duke of York and that of tbe Earl 
of Salisbury, to be set upon tbe city walls, she 
ordered that a space should be left between 
them for two other beads, one of which was to 
be that of Edward, tbe oldest son of the Duke 



1460.] Margaret an Exile. 239 

The duke's heir. Edward. 

of York, wlio was still alive, not having been 
present at the battle of Wakefield, and who, of 
course, now inherited the title and the claims 
of his father. 

This young Edward was at this time about 
nineteen years of age. His title had been hith- 
erto the Earl of March, and he would, of course, 
now become the Duke of York, only he chose 
to assume that of King of England. He was a 
young man of great energy of character, and he 
was sustained, of course, by all his father's par- 
ty, who now transferred their allegiance to him. 
Indeed, their zeal in his service was redoubled 
by the terrible resentment and the thirst for 
vengeance which the cruelties of. the queen 
awakened in their minds. Edward immediate- 
ly put himself in motion with all the troops 
that he could command. He was in the west- 
ern part of England at the time of his father's 
death, and he immediately began to move to- 
ward the coast in order to intercept Margaret 
on her march toward London. 

At the same fime, the Earl of Warwick ad- 
vanced from London itself to the northward to 
meet the queen, taking with him the king, who 
had up to this time remained in London. The 
armies of Warwick and of the queen came into 
the vicinity of each other not far from St. Al- 



240 Margaret of Anjou. [1460. 

Battle at St. Alban's. Warwick defeated. Henry abandoned. Is saved. 

ban's, before the young Duke of York came up, 
and a desperate battle was fought. Warwick's 
army was composed chiefly of men hastily got 
together in London, and they were no match 
for the experienced and sturdy soldiers which 
Margaret had brought with her from the Scot- 
tish frontier. They were entirely defeated. 
They fought all day, but at night they dis- 
persed in all directions, and in the hurry and 
confasion of their flight they left the poor king 
behind them. 

During the battle Margaret did not know 
that her husband was on the ground. But at 
night, as soon as Henry's keepers had abandon- 
ed him, a faithful serving-man who remained 
with him ran into Margaret's camp, and find- 
ing one of the nobles in command there, he in- 
formed him of the situation of the king. The 
noble immediately informed the queen, and she, 
overjoyed at the news, flew to the place where 
her husband lay, and, on finding him, they em- 
braced each other with the most passionate to- 
kens of affection and joy. 

Margaret brought the little prince to be pre- 
sented to him, and then they all together pro- 
ceeded to the abbey at St. Alban's, where apart- 
ments were provided for them. They first, 
however, went to the church, in order to re- 



1460.] Margaret an Exile. 241 

The abbey. Great excitement. The people alarmed. 

turn thanks publicly for the deliverance of the 
king. 

They were received at the door of the church 
by the abbot and the monks, who welcomed 
them with hymns of praise and thanksgiving 
as they approached. After the ceremonies had 
been performed, they went to the apartments 
in the abbey which had been provided for 
them, intending to devote some days to quiet 
and repose. 

In the mean time the excitement through- 
out the country continued and increased. The 
queen perpetrated fresh cruelties, ordering the 
execution of all the principal leaders from the 
other side that fell into her hands. She alien- 
ated the minds of the people from her cause 
by not restraining her troops from plundering ; 
and, in order to obtain money to defray the 
expenses of her army and to provide them with 
food, she made requisitions upon the towns 
through which she passed, and otherwise har- 
assed the people of the country by fines and 
confiscations. 

The people were at length so exasperated by 
these high-handed proceedings, and by the fu- 
rious and vindictive spirit which Margaret mani- 
fested in all that she did, that the current turn- 
ed altogether in favor of the young Duke of 

a 



242 Margaket of Anjou. [1460. 

Advance of Edward. London. Battle of Towton. 

York. The scattered forces of his party were 
reassembled. They began soon to assume so 
formidable an appearance that Margaret found 
it would be best for her to retire toward the 
north again. She of course took with her the 
king and the Prince of Wales. 

At the same time, Edward, the young Duke 
of York, advanced toward London. The whole 
city was excited to the highest pitch of enthu- 
siasm at his approach. A large meeting of 
citizens declared that Henry should reign no 
longer, but that they would have Edward for 
king. 

When Edward arrived in London he was 
received by the whole population as their de- 
liverer. A grand council of the nobles and 
prelates was convened, and, after solemn delib- 
erations, Henry was deposed and Edward was 
declared king. 

Two days after this a great procession was 
formed, at the head of which Edward rode roy- 
ally to Westminster and took his seat upon the 
throne. 

Margaret made one more desperate effort to 
retrieve the fortunes of her family by a battle 
fought at a place called Towton. This battle 
was fought in a snow-storm. It was an awful 
day. Margaret's party were entirely defeated, 



1460.] Margaret an Exile. 243 

Flight of the queen. Alnwick. 

and nearly thirty thousand of them were left 
dead upon the field. 

As soon as the result was known, Margaret, 
taking with her her husband and child and a 
small retinue of attendants, fled to the north- 
ward. She stopped a short time at the Castle 
of Alnwick,* a strong-hold belonging to one 
of her friends ; but, finding that the forces op- 
posed to her were gathering strength every day 
and advancing toward her, and that the coun- 
try generally was becoming more and more 
disposed to yield allegiance to the new king, 
she concluded that it would not be safe for her 
to remain in England any longer. 

So, taking her husband and the little prince 
with her, and also a few personal attendants, 
she left Alnwick, and crossed the frontier into 
Scotland, a fugitive and an exile, and with no 
hope apparently of ever being able to enter 
England again. 

* See map of the border at the commencement of chap- 
ter xix. 



244 Margaeet of Anjou. [1461. 

Margaret in Scotland. Her friends. The prince. 



Chapter XYIII. 
A KoYAL Cousin. 

AS soon as Margaret escaped to Scotland, 
far from being disheartened by her mis- 
fortunes, she began at once to concert measures 
for raising a new army and going into England 
again, with a view of making one more effort 
to recover her husband's throne. She knew, 
of course, that there was a large body of nobles, 
and of the people of the country, who were still 
faithful to her husband's cause, and who would 
be ready to rally round his standard whenever 
and wherever it should appear. All that she 
required was the nucleus of an army at the out- 
set, and a tolerably successful beginning in en- 
tering the country. There were knights and 
nobles, and great numbers of men, every where 
ready to join her as soon as she should appear, 
but they were nowhere strong enough to com- 
mence a movement on their own responsibility. 
One of the measures which she adopted for 
strengthening her interest with the royal fami- 
ly of Scotland was to negotiate a marriage be- 
tween the young prince, who was now seven 



1461.] A EoYAL Cousin. 245 

Messengers sent to France. Their letter. 

years old, and a Scotch princess. She succeed- 
ed in conditionally arranging this marriage, but 
she found that she could not raise troops for a 
second invasion of England. 

In the mean time, she had sent three noble- 
men as her messengers into France, to see what 
could be done in that country. France was her 
native land, and the king at that time, Charles 
VIL, was her uncle. She had strong reason to 
hope, therefore, that she might find aid and sym- 
pathy there. Toward the close of the summer, 
however, she received a letter from two of her 
messengers at Dieppe which was not at all en- 
couraging. 

The letter began by saying, on the part of 
the messengers, that they had already written 
to Margaret three times before ; once by the re- 
turn of the vessel, called the Carvel^ in which 
they went to France, and twice from Dieppe, 
where they then were, but all the letters were 
substantially to communicate the same evil ti- 
dings, namely, that the king, her uncle, was 
dead, and that her cousin had succeeded to the 
throne, but that the new king seemed not at all 
disposed to regard her cause favorably. His 
officers at Dieppe had caused all their papers to 
be seized and taken to the king, and he had 
shut up one of their number in the castle of 



246 Margaret of Anjou. [1461. 

The messengers' advice to the queen. Their professions and promises. 

Arques, which, is situated at a short distance 
from Dieppe. He had been apparently pre- 
vented from imprisoning the other two by their 
having been provided with a safe - conduct, 
which protected them. 

Furthermore, the writers of the letter bade 
the queen keep up good courage, and advised 
her, for the present, to remain quietly where she 
was. She must not, they said, venture herself, 
or the little prince, npon the sea in an attempt 
to come to France, unless she found herself ex- 
posed to great danger in remaining in Scotland. 
They wished her to notify the king, too, who 
they supposed was at that time secreted in 
Wales, for they had heard that the Earl of 
March — they would not call him King of En- 
gland, but still designated him by his old name 
— was going into Wales with an army to look 
for him. 

They said, in conclusion, that as soon as they ' 
were set at liberty they should immediately 
come to the queen in Scotland. Kothing but 
death would prevent their rejoining her, and 
they devoutly hoped and believed that they 
should not be called to meet with death until 
they could have the satisfaction of seeing her 
husband the king and herself once more in 
peaceable possession of their realm. 



1461.] A EoYAL Cousin. 247 

The letter itself. 

But the reader may perhaps like to peruse 
the letter itself in the words in which it was 
written. It is a very good specimen of the form 
in which the English language was written in 
those days, though it seems very quaint and 
old-fashioned now. It was as follows : 



"Madam, — Please your good God, we have, 
since our coming hither, written to your high- 
ness thrice; once by the carvel in which we 
came, the other two from Dieppe. But, madam, 
it was all one thing in substance, putting you in 
knowledge of your uncle's death, whom God as- 
soil, and how we stood arrested, and do yet. 
But on Tuesday next we shall up to the king, 
your cousin-german. His commissaires, at the 
first of our tarrying, took all our letters and 
writings, and bore them up to the king, leaving 
my Lord of Somerset in keeping at the castle of 
Arques, and my fellow Whyttingham and me 
(for we had safe-conduct) in the town of Dieppe, 
where we are yet. 

" Madam, fear not, but be of good comfort, 
and beware ye venture not your person, nor 
my lord the prince, by sea, till ye have other 
word from us, unless your person can not be 
sure where ye are, and extreme necessity drive 
ye thence. 



248 Margaeet of Anjou. [1461. 

Fidelity. Suspense. King Louis XI. 

" And, for Grod's sake, let the king's higliness 
be advised of the same ; for, as we are informed, 
the Earl of March is into Wales by land, and 
hath sent his navy thither by sea. 

"And, madam, think verily, as soon as we 
be delivered, we shall come straight to you, 
unless death take us by the way, which we 
trust he will not till we see the king and you 
peaceably again in your realm; the which we 
beseech God soon to see, and to send you that 
your highness desireth. Written at Dieppe the 
80th day of August, 1461. 

" Your true subjects and liegemen, 

" HUNGERFORD AND WhYTTINGHAM." 

Margaret remained through the winter in 
Scotland, anxiously endeavoring to devise 
means to rebuild her fallen fortunes. But all 
was in vain ; no light or hope appeared. At 
length, when the spring opened, she determined 
to go herself to France and see the king her 
cousin, in hopes that, by her presence at the 
court, and her personal influence over the king, 
something might be done. 

The king her cousin had been her playmate 
in their childhood. He was the son of Mary, 
her father Eene's sister. Mary and Eene had 
been very strongly attached to each other, and 



1461.] A KoYAL Cousin-. 249 

Want of funds. Gratitude. Voyage to France. 

the children had been brought up much to- 
gether. Margaret now hoped that, on seeing 
her again in her present forlorn and helpless 
condition, his former friendship for her would 
revive, and that he would do something to aid 
her. 

She was, however, entirely destitute of mon- 
ey, and she would have found it very difficult 
to contrive the means of getting to France, had 
it not been for the kindness of a French mer- 
chant who resided in Scotland, and whom she 
had known in former years in Nancy, in Lor- 
raine, where she had rendered him some serv- 
ice. The merchant had since acquired a large 
fortune in commercial operations between Scot- 
land and Flanders which he conducted. In 
his prosperity he did not forget the kindness 
he had received from the queen in former 
years, and, now that she was in want and in 
distress, he came forward promptly to relieve 
her. He furnished her with the funds neces- 
sary for her voyage, and provided a vessel to 
convey her and her attendants to the coast of 
France. She sailed from the port of Kirkcud- 
bright, on the western coast of Scotland, and 
so passed down through the Irish Sea and St. 
George's Channel, thus avoiding altogether the 
Straits of Dover, where she would have incur- 



250 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1462. 

Funds exhausted. Missed by her friends. 

red danger of being intercepted by the English 
men-of-war. 

Slie took the young prince witli her. The 
king it was thought best to leave behind. 

So great were the number of persons de- 
pendent upon the queen, and so urgent were 
their necessities, that all the funds which the 
French merchant had furnished her were ex- 
hausted on her arrival in France. She found, 
moreover, that the three friends, the noblemen 
■whom she had sent to France the summer be- 
fore, and from whom she had received the let- 
ter we have quoted, had left that country and 
gone to Scotland to seek her. They had pro- 
vided themselves with a vessel, in which they 
intended to take the queen away from Scotland 
and convey her to some place of safety, not 
knowing that she had herself embarked for 
France. They must have passed the queen's 
vessel on the way, unless, indeed, which is very 
probably the case, they went up the Channel 
and through the Straits of Dover, thus taking 
an altogether different route from that chosen 
by the queen. 

When they reached Scotland they hovered 
on the coast a long time, endeavoring to find an 
opportunity to communicate with her secretly ; 
but at length they learned that she was gone. 



1462.] A EoYAL Cousin. 


251 


She goes to France. 


Louis XI. 



In the mean time, Margaret, having arrived 
in France, borrowed some money of the Duke 
of Brittany, in whose dominions it would seem 
she first landed. With this money Margaret 
supplied the most pressing wants of her party, 
and also made arrangements for pursuing her 
journey into the country, to the town in Nor- 
mandy where her cousin the king was then re- 
siding. 




LOUIS XI., MABGAKET S COCSIN. 



It is said that, on arriving at the court of the 



252 


Margaret 


OF 


Anjou. 


[1462. 


Negotiations. 






Mortgage of Calais. 



king and obtaining admission to his majesty's 
presence, Margaret took the young prince by 
the hand, and, throwing herself down at her 
cousin's feet, she implored him, with many tears, 
to take pity upon her forlorn and wretched con- 
dition, and that of her unhappy husband, and 
to aid her in her efforts to recover his throne. 

But the king, with true royal heartlessness, 
was unmoved by her distress, and manifested 
no disposition to espouse her cause. 

Some negotiations, however, ensued, at the 
close of which the king promised to loan her 
a sum of money — for a consideration. The 
consideration was that she was to convey to him 
the port and town of Calais, which was still held 
by the English, and was considered a very im- 
portant and very valuable possession, or else pay 
back double the money which she borrowed. 

Thus it was not an absolute sale of Calais, 
but only a mortgage of it, which the queen ex- 
ecuted. But, nevertheless, as soon as this trans- 
action was made known in England, it excited 
great indignation throughout the country, and 
seriously injured the cause of the queen. The 
people accused her of being ready to alienate 
the possessions of the crown, possessions which 
it had cost so much both in blood and treasure 
to procure. 



1462.] A EoYAL Cousin. 


253 


Doubtful security. 


Conditions. 



Of course, the security which the king ob- 
tained for his loan was of a somewhat doubtful 
character, for Margaret's mortgage deed of Cal- 
ais, although she gave it in King Henry's name, 
and was careful to state in it that she was ex- 
pressly authorized by him to make it, was of no 
force at all so long as Edward of York reigned 
in England, and was acknowledged by the peo- 
ple as the rightful king. It was only in the 
event of Margaret's succeeding in recovering 
the throne for her husband that the mortgage 
could take effect. The deed which she executed 
stipulated that, as soon as King Henry should 
be restored to his kingdom, he would appoint 
one of two persons named, in whom the King 
of France had confidence, as governor of the 
town, with authority to deliver it up to the 
King of France in one year in case she did not 
within that time pay back double the sum of 
money borrowed. 

He seemed to think that, considering the 
great risk he was taking, a hundred per cent, 
per annum was not an exorbitant usury. 



254 Margaket of Anjou. 

Margaret finds a friend. Account of Breze. 



Chapter XIX. 
Eeturn to England. 

MAKGrAEET found one friend in France, 
who seems to liave espoused her cause 
from a sentiment of sincere and disinterested 
attachment to her. This was a certain knight 
named Pierre de Breze.* He was an officer of 
high rank in the government of Normandy, 
and a man of very considerable influence 
among the distinguished personages of those 
times. 

Margaret had known him intimately many 
years before. He was appointed one of the 
commissioners on the French side to negotiate, 
with Suffolk and the others, the terms of Mar- 
garet's marriage, and he had taken a very prom- 
inent part in the tournaments and other cel- 
ebrations which took place in honor of the 
wedding before Margaret left her native land. 
When he now saw the poor queen coming back 
to France an exile, bereft of friends, of resources, 
and almost of hope, the interest which he had 
felt for her in former years was revived. It is 

* Pronounced Brezzay. 



1462.] Eeturn to England. 255 



He enters the queen's service. 




of Lli^S 

SCOTTISH BO 



said that he fell in love with her. However 
this may be, it is certain that Margaret's great 
beauty must have had a very important influ- 
ence in deepening the sentiment of compassion 
which the misfortunes of the poor fugitive were 
so well calculated to inspire. At any rate, 
Breze entered at once into the queen's service 



256 Maegaret of Anjou. [1462. 

Margaret's plans. She goes to England. Hurried flight, 

with great enthusiasm. He brought with him 
a force of two thousand men. With this army, 
and with the money which she had borrowed 
of King Louis, Margaret resolved to make one 
more attempt to recover her husband's king- 
dom. :i 

At length, in the month of October, 1462, 
five months after she arrived in France, she set 
sail with a small number of vessels, containing 
the soldiers that Breze had provided for her. 
Her plan was to land in the north of England, 
for it was in that part of the country that the 
friends of the Lancaster line were most numer- 
ous and powerful. 

King Edward's government knew something 
of her plans, or, at least, suspected them, and 
they stationed a fleet to watch for her and in- 
tercept her. She, however, contrived to elude 
them, and reached the shores of England in 
safety. 

The fleet approached the shore at Tynemouth, 
but the guns of the forts were pointed against 
her, and she was forbidden to land. She, how- 
ever, succeeded, either at that place or at some 
other point along the coast, in effecting a de- 
barkation ; but she was threatened so soon with 
an attack by a large army which she heard 
was approaching, under the command of the 



1462.] Return to England. 257 

A storm. Ships wrecked. Holy Island. 

Earl of Warwick, that the French troops fled 
precipitately to their ships, leaving Margaret, 
the prince, Breze, and a few others who re- 
mained faithful to her, on shore. Being thus 
deserted, Margaret and her party were com- 
pelled to retreat too. They embarked on board 
a fisherman's boat, which w^as the only means 
of conveyance left to them, and in this manner 
made their way to Berwick, which town was 
in the possession of her friends. 

They were long in reaching Berwick, being 
detained by a storm. The storm, however, 
caused Margaret a much greater injury than 
mere detention. The ships in which the French 
soldiers had fled were caught by it off a range 
of rocky cliffs lying between Tynemouth and 
Berwick, the most prominent of which is called 
Bamborough Head. The ships were driven 
upon the rocks and rocky islands which lay 
along the shore, and there broken to pieces by 
the sea which rolled in upon them from the 
of&ng. All the stores, and provisions, and 
munitions of war which Margaret had brought 
from France, and which constituted almost her 
sole reliance for carrying on the war, were lost. 
Most of the men saved themselves, and made 
their escape to an island that lay near, called 
Holy Island. But here they were soon after- 
R 



258 Margaret of Anjou. [1462. 

Margaret's escape. Her spirit revives. Battle of Hexliam. 

ward attacked by a body of Yorkist troops 
and cut to pieces. 

Margaret reached Berwick in her fishing- 
boat at last, bearing these terrible tidings to her 
friends there. One would suppose that the last 
hope of her being able to retrieve her fallen 
fortunes would now be extinguished, and that 
she would sink down in utter and absolute de- 
spair. 

But it was not in Margaret's nature to de- 
spair. The more heavily the pressure of ca- 
lamity and the hostility of her foes weighed 
upon her, the more fierce and determined was 
the spirit of resistance which they aroused in 
her bosom. In this instance, instead of yield- 
ing to dejection and despondency, she began 
at once to take measures for assembling a new 
force, and the ardor and energy which she dis- 
played inspired all around her with some por- 
tion of her confidence and zeal. A new army 
was raised during the winter. Yery early in 
the . spring it took the field, and a series of 
military operations followed, in which towns 
and castles were taken and retaken, and skir- 
mishes fought all along the Scottish frontier. 
At length the contending forces were concen- 
trated near a place called Hexham, and a gen- 
eral battle ensued. The queen's army was de- 



1462.] Eeturn to England. 259 

The king's escape. The queen's danger. 

feated. The king, who was in the battle, had 
a most narrow escape. He fled on horseback — 
for when he was in good bodily health he was 
an excellent horseman — but he was so hotly 
pursued that three of his body-guard were 
taken. 

It is mentioned that one of the men thus 
taken wore the king's cap of state, which was 
embroidered with two crowns of gold, one rep- 
resenting the kingdom of England and the other 
that of France, the title to which country the 
English sovereigns still pretended to claim, in 
virtue of their former extended possessions 
there, although pretty much all except the 
town of Calais was now lost. 

Perhaps the pursuers of the king's party 
were deceived by this royal cap, and took the 
wearer of it for the king. At any rate, the 
officer wearing the cap was taken, and the 
king escaped. 

Immediately after the victory on the field at 
Hexham, a body of the Yorkist troops broke 
into the camp where the queen was quartered, 
and where, with the young prince, she was 
awaiting the result of the battle. As soon as 
the queen found that the enemy were coming, 
she seized the prince and ran off with him, in 
mortal terror, into a neighboring wood. She 



260 Margaret of Anjou. [1462. 

Narrow escape. Her flight. The robbers. 

knew well that, if the child was taken, he would 
certainly be killed. Indeed, such bloody work 
had been made on both sides, with assassina- 
tions and executions during the year prior to 
this time, that men's minds were in the highest 
state of exasperation ; and it is probable that 
both Margaret herself and the child would have 
been butchered on the spot if they had re- 
mained in the camp until the victorious troops 
entered it. 

As soon as Margaret gained the wood she 
turned off into the most obscure and solitary 
paths that she could find, thinking of nothing 
but to escape from her pursuers, who, she im- 
agined in her fright, were close behind. At 
length, after wandering about in this manner 
for some time, she fell in with a company of 
men in the wood, who were either a regular 
band of robbers, or were tempted to become 
robbers on that occasion by the richness of the 
stranger's dress, and by the articles of jewelry 
and other decorations which she wore ; for, al- 
though Margaret's means were extremely lim- 
ited, she still maintained, in some degree, the 
bearing and the appointments of a queen. 

The men at once stopped her, and began to 
plunder her and the prince of every thing which 
they qpuld take from them that appeared to be 



1462.] Eetuen to England. 261 

An escape. Alone in the woods. Night. A stranger appears. 

of value. As soon as they had possessed them- 
selves of this plunder they began to quarrel 
about it among themselves. Margaret remain- 
ed standing near, in great anxiety and distress, 
until presently, watching her opportunity, "she 
caught up the prince in her arms and slipped 
away into the adjoining thickets. 

She ran forward as fast as she could go until 
she supposed herself out of the reach of pursuit 
from the robbers, and then looked for a place 
in the densest part of the wood where she could 
hide, with the intention of remaining there un- 
til night. Her plan was then to find her way 
out of the wood, and so wander on until she 
should come to the residence of some one of 
her friends, who she might hope would harbor 
and conceal her. 

She accordingly continued in her hiding- 
place until evening came on, and then, having 
recovered in some degree, by this interval of 
rest, from the excitement, fatigue, and terror 
which she had endured, she came out into a 
path again, leading little Edward by the hand. 
The moon was shining, and this enabled her to 
see where to go. 

After wandering on for some time, she was 
alarmed by the apparition of a tall man, armed, 
who suddenly appeared in the pathway at a 



262 Margaret of Anjou. [1462. 

Margaret's appeal to the stranger. The outlaw's cave. 

short distance before her. She had no doubt 
that this was another robber. It was too late 
for her to attempt to flj from him. He was 
too near to allow her any chance of escape. In 
this extremity, she conceived the idea of throw- 
ing herself upon his generosity as her last and 
only hope. So she advanced boldly toward 
him, leading the little prince by the hand, and 
said to him, presenting the prince, 

" My friend, this is the son of your king ! 
Save him!" 

The man appeared astonished. In a mo- 
ment he laid his sword down at Margaret's 
feet in token of submission to her, and then 
immediately offered to conduct her and the 
prince to a place of safety. He also explained 
to her that he was one of her friends. He had 
been ruined by the war, and driven from his 
home, and was now, like the queen herself, a 
wanderer and a fugitive. He had taken pos- 
session of a cave in the wood, and there he was 
now living with his wife as an outlaw. He 
led Margaret and the prince to the cave, where 
they were received by his wife, and entertained 
with such hospitalities as a home so gloomy 
and comfortless could afford. 

Margaret remained an inmate of this cave 
for two days. The place is known to this day 



1462.] Keturn to England. 265 

Appearance of the cave. Margaret concealed in it. A friend found. 

as Margaret's Cave. It stands in a very se- 
cluded spot on the banks of a small stream. 
The ground around it is now open, but in Mar- 
garet's time it was in the midst of the forest. 
The entrance to the cave is very low. Within, 
it is high enough for a man to stand upright. 
It is about thirty -four feet long, and half as 
wide. There are some appearances of its hav- 
ing been once divided by a wall into two sep- 
arate apartments. 

For two days Margaret remained in the cave, 
suffering, of course, the extreme of suspense and 
anxiety all the time, being in great solicitude 
to hear from her friends, the nobles and gen- 
erals who had been defeated with her in the 
battle. Her host made diligent though secret 
inquiries, but could gain no tidings. At length, 
on the morning of the third day, to Margaret's 
infinite relief and joy, he came in bringing with 
him De Breze himself, with his squire, whose 
name was Barville, and an English gentleman 
who had escaped with De Breze from the bat- 
tle, and had since been wandering about with 
fhim, looking every where for the queen. Mar- 
garet was for the moment overjoyed to see 
these friends again, but her exultation was 
soon succeeded by the deepest grief at hearing 
the terrible accounts they gave of the death of 



266 Margaret of Anjou. [1462. 

Margaret's anger turned to grief. They leave the cave. 

her nearest friends, some of wliom had been 
killed in .the battle, and others had been taken 
prisoners and cruelly executed immediately aft- 
erward. Up to this time, through all the dan- 
ger and suffering which she had endured since 
the battle, she had been either in a state of 
stupor, or else filled with resentment and rage 
against her enemies, and she had not shed a 
tear ; but now grief for the loss of these dear 
and faithful friends seemed to take the place 
of all other emotions, and she wept a long time 
as if her heart would break. 

Margaret learned, however, from her friends 
that the king had made his escape, and was 
probably in a place of safety, and this gave 
her great consolation. It was thought that the 
king had succeeded in making his way to Scot- 
land. 

In the course of the day, one of the party 
who came with Breze went out into the neigh- 
boring villages to see if he could learn any new 
tidings, and before long he returned bringing 
with him several nobles of high rank and 
princes of the Lancastrian line. Margaret felt 
much relieved to find her party so strengthen- 
ed, and arrangements were soon made by the 
whole party for Margaret to leave the cave 
with them, and endeavor to reach the Scottish 



1462.] EeTURN to El^GLAND. 267 

Generosity of the outla^v. The queen's gratitude. The journey. 

frontier, which was not much more, in a direct 
line, than thirty miles from where they were. 

Before they departed from the cave Marga- 
ret expressed her thanks very earnestly to the 
outlaw and his wife for their kindness in re- 
ceiving her and the little prince into their cave, 
and in doing so much for their comfort while 
there, although by so doing they not only en- 
croached very much upon their own slender 
means of support, but also incurred a very se- 
rious risV in harboring such a fugitive. Hav- 
ing heevt plundered of every thing by the rob- 
bers in the wood, she had nothing but thanks 
to return to her kind protectors. The nobles 
who were now with her offered the wife of the 
outlaw some money — for they had still a small 
supply of money left — but she would not re- 
ceive it. They would require all they had, she 
said, for themselves, before they reached Scot- 
land. 

The queen was much moved by this gener- 
osity, and she said that of all that she had lost 
there was nothing that she regretted so much 
as the power of rewarding such goodness. 

On leaving the wood at Hexham, the party, 
instead of proceeding north, directly toward the 
frontier of Scotland, concluded to journey west- 
ward to Carlisle, intending to take passage by 



268 Margaeet of Anjou. [1462. 

The journey to Kirkcudbright. Her anxiety. 

water from that place through Solway to Kirk- 
cudbright, the port from which Margaret had 
sailed when she went to France.* They were 
obliged to use a great many precautions in trav- 
ersing the country to prevent being discover- 
ed. The party consisted of Margaret and the 
young prince, attended by Breze and his squire, 
and also by the man of the cave, who was ac- 
quainted with the country, and acted as guide. 
They reached Carlisle in safety, and there em- 
barked on board a vessel, which took them 
down the Firth and landed them in Kirkcud- 
bright. 

Though now out of England, Margaret did 
not feel much more at ease than before, for 
during her absence in France a treaty had been 
made between King Edward and the Scottish 
king which would prevent Ihe latter from open- 
ly harboring her in his dominions ; so she was 
obliged to keep closely concealed. 

* See the map at the commencement of this chapter. 



1462.] Years of Exile. 269 

They are discovered. An abduction. 



Chapter XX. 
Years of Exile. 

MAEGAEET had not been long in Kirk- 
cudbright before she was accidentally 
seen by a man who knew her. This man was 
an Englishman. His name was Cork. He 
was of the Yorkist party. He said nothing 
when he saw the queen, but he immediately 
formed the resolution to seize her tind all her 
party, and to convey them to England and 
give them up to King Edward. He contrived 
some way to carry this plot into execution. He 
seized de Breze and his squire, and also the 
queen and the prince, and carried them on board 
a boat in the night, having first bound and gag- 
ged them, to disable them from making resist- 
ance or uttering any cries. It seems that De 
Breze was not with the queen when he was 
taken, and as it was dark when they were put 
on board the boat, and neither could speak, 
neither party knew that the others were there 
until the morning, when they were far away 
from the shore, out in the wide part of the Sol- 
way Bay. 

In the night, however, De Breze, who was a 



270 Margaket of Anjou. [1462. 

De Breze's exploit. Tossed about in Solway Firth. 

man of address and of great personal strength, 
as well as of undaunted bravery, contrived to 
get froe from liis bonds, and also to free his 
squire, without letting the boatmen know what 
he had done. Then, in the morning, watching 
for a good opportunity, they together rose upon 
the boatmen, seized the oars, and, after a violent 
struggle, in which they came very near upset- 
ting the boat, they finally succeeded in kiUing 
some of the men, and in throwing the others 
overboard. They immediately liberated Mar- 
garet and the prince, and then attempted to 
make for the shore. 

After having been tossed about for some time 
in the Gulf or Firth of Solway, the boat was 
carried by the wind away up through the ISTorth 
Channel more than sixty miles, and finally was 
thrown upon a sand-bank near the coast of Can- 
tyre, a famous promontory extending into the 
sea in this part of Scotland. The boat struck 
at some distance from the dry land, and the sea 
rolled in so heavily upon it that there was dan- 
ger of its being broken to pieces; so De Breze 
took the queen upon his shoulders, and, wad- 
ing through the water, conveyed her to the 
shore. Barville, the squire, carried the prince 
in the same way. And so they were once more 
safe on land. 



.1462.] Years of Exile. 271 

They land in Scotland. ArriA-al at the hamlet. 

They found the coast wild and barren, and 
the country desolate ; but this was attended 
with one advantage at least, and that was that 
the queen was in little danger of being recog- 
nized ; for, as one of Margaret's historians ex- 
presses it, the peasants were so ignorant that 
they could not conceive of any one's being a 
queen unless she had a crown upon her head 
and a sceptre in her hand. 

They all went up a little way into the coun- 
tr}^, and at length found a small hamlet, where 
Margaret concluded to remain with the prince 
until De Breze could go to Edinburgh and learn 
what the condition of the country was, and so 
enable her to consider what course to pursue. 

The report which De Breze brought back on 
his return was very discouraging. Margaret, 
however, on hearing it, determined to go to Ed- 
inburgh herself, to see what she could do. She 
found, on her arrival there, that the govern- 
ment were not willing to do any thing more for 
her. They would furnish her with the means, 
they said, if she wished, of going back to En- 
gland in a quiet way, with a view of seeking ref- 
uge among some of her friends there, but that 
was all that they could do. 

So Margaret went back to England, and re- 
mained for some little time in the great castle 



272 Margaret of Anjou. [1462. 

Margaret reaches Bamborough. Sht, sails for Flanders. A storm 

of Bamborough, whicli was still in the hands 
of her friends. She tried here to contrive some 
way of reassembling her scattered adherents and 
making a new rally, but she found that that ob- 
ject could not be accomplished. Thus all the 
resources which could be furnished by France, 
Scotland, or England for her failing cause seem- 
ed to be exhausted, and, after turning her eyes 
in every direction for help, she concluded to 
cross the German Ocean into Flanders, to see if 
she could find any sympathy or succor there. 

Compared with the number of attendants 
that were with her in her flight into Scotland, 
the retinue of friends and followers by which 
she was accompanied in this retreat to the Con- 
tinent was quite large, though it is probable 
that most of this company went with her quite 
as much on their own account as on the queen's. 
The whole party numbered about two hundred. 
They embarked from Bamborough on board 
two ships, but very soon after they had left the 
land a storm arose, and the two ships were sep- 
arated from each other, and for twelve hours 
the one which Margaret and the prince had 
taken was hi imminent danger of beiug over- 
whelmed. The wind rose to a perfect hurri- 
cane, and no one expected that they could pos- 
sibly escape. 



1462.] Years of Exile. 27S 

The Duke of Burgundy. Generosity of the duke. 

At length, however, the gale subsided so as 
to allow the ship to make a port ; not the port 
of their destination, however, but one far to the 
southward of it, in. a territory belonging to 
Philip, Duke of Burgundy, between whom and 
Margaret there had been, during all Margaret's 
life, a hereditary and implacable enmity. Mar- 
garet was greatly alarmed at finding herself 
thus at the mercy of a person whom she con- 
sidered as one of her deadliest foes. 

But, very much to her surprise, the duke, as 
soon as he heard of her arrival in the country, 
took pity on her misfortunes, forgot all his for- 
mer enmity, and treated her in the most gener- 
ous manner. He was not at Lille, his capital, 
when she arrived, but he sent his son to receive 
her, and to conduct her to the capital, with ev- 
ery possible mark, of respect. When she went 
on afterward to meet the duke, he sent a guard 
of honor to escort her, and when she arrived at 
his court, which was at that time at a place call- 
ed St. Pol, he received her m a very distinguish- 
ed manner, and prepared great entertainments 
and festivities to do her honor. 

He rendered her, also, still more substantial 

services than these, by furnishing her with an 

ample supply of funds for all her immediate 

wants. He gave to each of the ladies in her 

S 



274 Margaket of Anjou. [1462. 

Rene's gratitude. A rare example. 

train a hundred crowns, to Breze a thousand, 
and to Margaret herself an order on his treas- 
urer for ten thousand. 

King Eene, Margaret's father, was very much 
touched with this generosity and kindness on 
the part of his old family enemy. He himself, 
at that time, was wholly destitute, and unable 
to do any thing for his daughter's relief. He, 
however, wrote a letter of warm thanks to Phil- 
ip, in which he declared that he had not merit- 
ed and did not expect such kindness at his 
hands. 

We have, in the conduct of the Duke of Bur- 
gundy on this occasion, one single and solitary 
example, among all the Christian knights, and 
nobles, and princes that figure in this long and 
melancholy story of contention, cruelty, and 
crime, in which the Savior's rule. Forgive your 
enemies, do good to them that hate you, was 
cordially obeyed ; and what happy fruits imme- 
diately resulted to all concerned ! How much 
of all the vast amount of bloodshed and suffer- 
ing which prevailed during these gloomy times 
would have been prevented, if those who pro- 
fessed to be followers of Christ had been really 
wliat they pretended. 

With the money which Margaret obtained 
from the Duke of Burgundy she was enabled 



1462.] Years of Exile. 275 

Margaret goes to Lorraine. The prince. Bad news from the king. 

to continue her journey in some tolerable de- 
gree of comfort to the old home of her child- 
hood in Lorraine. All that her father could 
do for her was to furnish her a humble place 
of refuge in a castle at Verdun, on the Kiver 
Moselle, which flows through the province. 
She went there, attended with a small number 
of followers, and here she remained, in utter 
seclusion from the world, and almost forgot- 
ten, for seven long years. 

During all this time she enjoyed the comfort 
and satisfaction of having her son, the prince, 
with her, and of watching his progress to man- 
hood under her own personal charge and that 
of one or two accomplished men who still ad- 
hered to her, and who aided her in the educa- 
tion of her boy. She was, however, hopelessly 
separated from her husband. For a long time 
she did not know what had become of him. 
During this time he was leading a very pre- 
carious and wandering life in England, going 
from one hiding-place to another, wherever his 
friends could most conveniently secrete him 
At length, however, the heavy tidings came 
to the queen, in her retreat at Verdun, that her 
husband had been betrayed in one of his re- 
treats, and had been seized and carried to Lon 
don as a prisoner in a very ignominious man- 



276 Makgaret of Anjou, [M62. 

His life spared. Cruelties, Men tortured, 

ner. It was to have been expected that he 
would be immediately put to death ; but, as a 
matter of policy, the York party thought it not 
best to proceed to that extremity, especially as 
all his kingly right would have immediately 
descended to his son, in whose hands, with such 
a mother to aid him, they would have become 
more formidable than ever. Thus, on many 
accounts, it was better for his enemies to allow 
the old king to live. 

But very special precautions were taken by 
King Edward's government to prevent Marga- 
ret and the young prince from coming into En- 
gland again. A coast guard was set all along 
the shore, and every one in England who was 
suspected of being in communication with the 
exiled queen was watched and guarded in the 
closest manner possible. Some were tortured 
and put to death in the attempt to force them 
to give up letters or papers supposed to be in 
their possession. A certain wealthy merchant 
of London was accused of treason, and very se- 
verely punished, simply because he had been 
asked to loan money to Margaret, and, though 
he refused to make the loan, did not inform 
the ai^.thorities of the application which had 
been T..iade to him. 

An, mg other examples of the shocking cru- 



1462.] Years of Exile. 277 

Great fidelity. 

eltj of which, those in power were guilty, in 
their hatred of Margaret and her cause, it is 
said that one man,, who was found out, as they 
thought, in an attempt to convey letters to and 
fro between Margaret and some of her friends 
in England, was torn to pieces with red-hot 
pincers in a fruitless attempt to make him con- 
fess who the persons were in England for whom 
the letters were intended. But he bore the 
torture to the end, and died without betraying 
the secret. 



278 Margaket of Anjou. [1469. 

Great news. Revolt of Wai-wick. 



Chapter XXL 

The Reconciliation with War- 
wick. 

IN the fall of 1469, Margaret's mind was 
aroused to new life and excitement by news 
wHch came from England that great opposition 
had gradually grown up in the realm against 
the government of Edward, that many of his 
best friends had forsaken him, and that the 
friends and partisans of the Lancaster line were 
increasing in strength and courage to such a 
degree as to make it probable that the time was 
drawing nigh when Henry might be restored 
to the throne. The most important circum- 
stance connected with the change which had 
taken place was that the great Earl of War- 
wick, who had been the most efficient and pow- 
erful supporter of the house of York, and the 
most determined enemy of Margaret and Hen- 
ry during the whole war, had now abandoned 
Edward, and had come to France, and was 
ready to throw all the weight of his power and 
influence on the other side."^ 

* The nature of the difficulties which had taken place in 
England, and the circumstances which led the Earl of War- 



1469.] Margaret and Warwick. 279 

Excitement. Margaret sent for. ReconcUiation with Wan7ick proposed. 

Of course, these tidings produced a great ex- 
citement all over France. King Louis XL was 
specially interested in them, as they afforded a 
hope that Margaret might regain her throne, 
and so be able to redeem her mortgage, or else 
deliver up to him the security ; so he called a 
council at Tours to consider what was best to 
be done, and he sent for Margaret at Yerdun to 
come with the prince and attend it. He also 
sent for Rene, her father, and other influential 
family friends. It is said that when Margaret 
arrived and met her father, she was so much 
agitated by the news, and by the hopes which 
it awakened in her bosom, that, in embracing 
him, she burst into tears from the excess of her 
excitement and joy. 

But she could not endure the idea of a rec- 
onciliation with Warwick. At first she pos- 
itively refused to see or to speak to him. 
When, however, at length he arrived at Tours, 
the king introduced him into Margaret's pres- 
ence, but for a long time she refused to have 
any thing to do with him. 

"She could never forgive him," she said. 
"He had been the chief author of the downfall 
of her husband, and of all the sorrows and ca- 

wick to abandon Edward's cause, are explained fully in the 
history of Richard III. 



280 Margaeet of Anjou. [1469. 

Margaret's objections. Wanvick's arguments. His promises. 

lamities whicli had since befallen her and her 
son. 

" Besides," she said, " even if she were will- 
ing to forgive him for the intolerable wrongs 
which he had inflicted upon her, it wonld be 
very prejudicial to her husband's cause to en- 
ter into any agreement or alliance v\rith him 
whatever ; for all her party and friends in En- 
gland, whom Warwick had done so much to 
injure, and who had so long looked upon him 
as their worst and deadliest foe, would be whol- 
ly alienated from her if they were to know that 
she had taken him into favor, and thus she 
would lose much more than she would gain." 

Warwick replied to this as well as he could, 
pleading the injuries which he had himself re- 
ceived from the Lancaster party as an excuse 
for his hostility against them. Then, moreover, 
he had been the means of unsettling King Ed- 
ward in his realm, and of preparing the way 
for King Henry to return ; and he promised 
that, if Margaret would receive him into her 
service, he would thenceforth be true and faith- 
ful to her as long as he lived, and be as much 
King Edward's foe as he had hitherto been his 
friend. He appealed, moreover, to the King of 
France to be his surety that he would faithful- 
ly perform these stipulations. 



l-iQd.l Margaret and Warwick. 281 

King Louis intercedes. A new proposal. Margaret's indignation. 

The King of France said that he would be 
his surety, and he begged that Margaret would 
pardon "Warwick, and receive him into favor 
for his sake, and for the great love that he, the 
king, bore to him. He would do more for him, 
he added, than for any man living. 

Margaret at last allowed herself to be per- 
suaded, and Warwick was forgiven. 

There were several other great nobles, who 
had come over with Warwick, that were re- 
ceived into Margaret's favor at the same time, 
and, when the grand reconciliation was com- 
pletely effected, the whole party set out togeth- 
er to go down the Loire to Angers, where the 
Countess of Warwick, the earl's wife, and his 
youngest daughter, Anne, were awaiting them. 
The countess and Anne were presented to the 
queen, and a short time afterward Louis ven- 
tured to propose a marriage between Anne and 
Prince Edward. 

Margaret received this proposal with aston- 
ishment, and rejected it with scorn. She said 
she could see neither honor nor profit in it, 
either for herself or for her son. But at length, 
after a fortnight had been spent in reasoning 
with her on the advantages of the connection, 
and the aid which she would derive from such 
an alliance with Warwick in endeavoring to 



282 Margaeet of Anjou. [1469. 

The match finally agreed upon. The true cross. Oaths taken. 

recover her husband's kingdom, she finally 
yielded. She was influenced at last, in coming 
to this decision, by the advice of her father, who 
counseled her to consent to the match. 

The parties united in a grand religious cer- 
emony in the cathedral church of Angers to 
seal and ratify the covenants and agreements 
by which they were now to be bound. 

There was a fragment of the true cross, so 
supposed, among the relics in the cathedral, 
and this was an object of such veneration that 
an oath taken upon it was considered as im- 
posing an obligation of the highest sanctity. 
Each of the three great parties took an oath, 
in turn, upon this holy emblem. 

First, the Earl of Warwick swore that he 
would, without change, always hold to the party 
of King Henry, and serve him, the queen, and 
the prince, as a true and faithful subject ought 
to serve his sovereign lord. 

Next, the King of France swore that he 
would help and sustain, to the utmost of his 
power, the Earl of Warwick in the quarrel of 
King Henr}^ 

And, finally. Queen Margaret swore to treat 
the earl as true and faithful to King Henry and 
the prince, and "for his deeds past never to 
make him any reproach," 



1470.] Margaeet and Warwick. 283 

Tlie betrothal. Conditions. Ceremony. Margaret sets out for Paris. 

It was farthermore agreed at this time that 
Anne, the Earl of Warwick's daughter, who 
was betrothed to the prince, should be deliver- 
ed to Queen Margaret, and should remain under 
lier charge until the marriage should be con- 
summated. But this was not to take place un- 
til the Earl of Warwick had been into England 
and had recovered the realm, or the greater por- 
tion of it at least, and restored it to King Hen- 
ry. Thus the consummation of the marriage 
was to depend upon Warwick's success in re- 
storing Henry his crown. 

Still, a sort of marriage ceremony, or, more 
strictly, a ceremony of betrothal, was celebrated 
at Angers between the prince and his affianced 
bride a few days afterward, with great parade, 
and then Warwick, leaving his countess and his 
daughter behind with Margaret, set out for En- 
gland with a troop of two thousand men which 
Louis had furnished him. 

After War wick had gone, Margaret remained 
at Angers for some weeks, and then set out for 
Paris, escorted by a guard of honor. Her par- 
ty arrived at the capital in November, and Mar- 
garet, by Louis's orders, was received with all 
the ceremonies and marks of distinction due to 
a queen. The streets through which she pass- 
ed were hung with tapestry, and ornamented 



284 Margaeet of Anjou. [1470. 

Reception in Paris. Good news received. 

with flags and banners, and with every other 
suitable decoration. The people came out in 
throngs to see the grand procession pass ; for, 
in addition to the guard of honor which had 
conducted the party to the capital, all the great 
public functionaries and high officials joined in 
the procession at the gates, and accompanied it 
through the city, thus forming a grand and im- 
posing spectacle. 

Queen Margaret and her party were in this 
way conducted to the palace, and lodged there 
in great splendor. Their hearts were gladden- 
ed, too, on their arrival, by receiving the news 
that Warwick had landed in England, and had 
been completely successful in his undertaking. 
King Edward was deposed, and King Henry 
had been released from his imprisonment in the 
Tower and placed upon the throne. 

Margaret, of course, at once determined that 
she would immediately make preparations for 
returning to England. 



1470.] Bitter Disappointment. 285 

Preparations for going to England. Harfleur. 



Chapter XXII. 
Bitter Disappointment. 

THE preparations whicla were required for 
Margaret and her company to return to 
England in suitable state seem to have con- 
sumed several months ; for, although it was as 
early as November that the great entrance into 
Paris took place, and the news of Henry's res- 
toration was received, it was not until February 
that the royal party were ready to embark. 
There were negotiations to be made, and men 
to be enhsted, and ships to be procured, and 
funds to be provided, and appointments to be 
decided upon, and dresses to be made, and a 
thousand questions of precedence and etiquette 
to be considered and arranged. At length, 
however, all was ready, and the whole company 
proceeded together to the port which had been 
selected as the place of embarkation. This port 
was Harfleur. Harfleur is situated on the coast 
of Normandy, near the more modern port of 
Havre. 

When the time arrived for sailing, the weath- 
er looked very unfavorable ; but Margaret, who 



286 Margaket of Anjou. [1470. 

Wind contrary. Supposed witchcraft. Large company. 



had become weary with the delays by which her 
return had been so long postponed, and was 
very impatient to arrive in her own dominions 
again, ordered the ships to put to sea. Three 
times did they make the attempt, and three 
times were the ships driven back into port 
again. Many of her friends were greatly dis- 
couraged by these failures. Some said they 
thought that this continued resistance of the el- 
ements to her plans ought to be regarded as an 
indication of divine Providence that she was 
not to go to England at present, and they begged 
her to defer the attempt. Others thought that 
the contrary winds wxre raised by witches, and 
they began to devise measures for finding out 
who the witches w^ere. 

Margaret paid no attention to either of these 
suggestions, but persisted in her determination 
to sail the moment that the weather should al- 
low. This delay was a source of great incon- 
venience to her, and it occasioned a good deal 
of expense ; for, besides her own personal offi- 
cers and attendants, Margaret had collected 
quite a large body of soldiers to cross the Chan- 
nel with her, in order to re-enforce the armies 
of Warwick and of Henry. This was quite 
necessary ; for, although Henry had been nom- 
inally restored to the throne, his enemies were 



1470.] Bitter Disappointment. 287 

Army to be embarked. Margaret's fears. Countess of Warwick. 

yet in the field in considerable force, and Mar- 
garet was very desirous of bringing with her 
the means of helping to put them down. In- 
deed, she knew that the situation of her hus- 
band was extremely precarious, and that the 
fortune of war might at any time turn against 
him. And this consideration made her ex- 
tremely impatient at the delay occasioned by 
the weather at Harfleur. She did not know 
but that the king might even then be engaged 
in close conflict with his foes, and likely to be 
overwhelmed by them, and that her force, by 
being so long delayed, would arrive too late to 
save him. 

Alas for poor Margaret ! It was, indeed, ex- 
actly so. 

It was not until the 24th of March that it 
was possible to leave the port; but then, al- 
though the weather was by no means settled, 
the queen determined to wait no longer. The 
Countess of Warwick, who had been left in 
France when the earl her husband went to 
England, sailed from Harfleur at the same time 
with the queen, though in a different vessel. 
Her daughter, however, the prince regent's 
bride elect, went with the queen. 

The weather continued very boisterous after 
the fleet sailed, and as the gales which blew so 



288 Margaret of Anjou. [1470. 

AiTival in England. The landing. 

heavily were from the north, the ships could 
make very little progress. They were kept 
beating about in the Channel, or lying at an- 
chor waiting for a change of wind, for more 
than a fortnight. During all this time Marga- 
ret was kept in a perfect fever of impatience 
and anxiety. 

At length, about the 10th of April, they 
reached the land at Weymouth. 

After the ships entered the port, the space 
of a day or two was occupied in making prepa- 
rations to land. Among these preparations 
was included the work of arranging apartments 
at an abbey in the vicinity of Weymouth to 
receive the queen and her attendants. In the 
mean time, the landing of the troops was push- 
ed forward as rapidly as possible. 

The ship in which the Countess of Warwick 
embarked had sailed in a different direction 
from Margaret's fleet, and it was not known 
yet what had become of her. 

When at last the preparations were com- 
pleted, the queen and her party went on shore 
and took up their abode in the abbey. Marga- 
ret's mind was intensely occupied with the ar- 
rangements necessary for marshaling her troops 
and getting them ready to march to the assist- 
ance of Warwick, when, to her amazement and 



1470.] BiTTEK Disappointment. 289 



News of a battle. 



Warwick killed. 



consternation, she received news, on the very 
next day after she took up her abode in the ab- 
be}^, that the party of King Edward had mus- 
tered in great force and advanced toward Lon- 
don, and that a battle had been fought at a place 
called Barnet, a few miles from London, in which 
Edward's party had been completely victorious. 
The Earl of Warwick had been killed. King 
Henry her husband had been taken prisoner, 
and their cause seemed to be wholly lost. 




PEATH OF AVAK->VICK.. 

T 



290 Margaret of Anjou. [1471. 

Manner of Warwick's death. Margaret's despair. Imminent danger. 

Warwick had gone into the battle on foot, 
in order the more effectually to stimulate the 
emulation of his men, so that when, in the end, 
his forces were defeated, and fled, he himself, 
being encumbered by his armor, could not save 
himself, but was overtaken by his remorseless 
enemies and slain. 

The terrible agitation and anguish that this 
news excited in the mind of the queen it would 
be impossible to describe. She fell at first into 
a swoon, and when at length her senses re- 
turned, she was so completely overwhelmed 
with disappointment, vexation, and rage, and 
talked so wildly and incoherently, that her 
friends almost feared that she would lose her 
reason. Her son, the young prince, who was 
now nearly nineteen years of age, did all in his 
power to soothe and calm her, and at length 
so far succeeded as to induce her to consider 
what was to be done to secure her own and his 
safety. To remain where they were was to 
expose themselves to be attacked at any time 
by a body of Edward's victorious troops and 
conveyed prisoner to the Tower. 

There was another abbey at not a great dis- 
tance from where Margaret now was, which 
was endowed with certain privileges as a sanc- 
tuary, such that persons seeking refuge there 



1471.] Bitter Disappointment. 291 

She seeks security. The Countess of Warwick. Great reverse of fortune. 

under certain circumstances could not be taken 
away. The name of this retreat was Beau- 
lieu Abbey. Margaret immediately proceeded 
across the country to this place, taking with her 
the prince and nearly all the others of her par- 
ty. Either on her arrival here, or on the way, 
she met the Countess of Warwick, who, it will 
be recollected, had left Ilarfleur at the same 
time that she did. The countess's ship had 
been driven farther to the eastward, and she 
had finally landed at Portsmouth. Here she 
too had learned the news of the battle of Bar- 
net and of the death of her husband, and, be- 
ing completely overwhelmed with the tidings, 
and also alarmed for her own safety, she had 
determined to fly for refuge to Beaulieu Ab- 
bey too. 

The two unhappy ladies, who had parted, 
three weeks before, on the coast of France with 
such high and excellent expectations, now met, 
both plunged in the deepest and most over- 
whelming sorrow. Their hopes were blasted, 
all their bright prospects were destroyed, and 
they found themselves in the condition of help- 
less and wretched fugitives, dependent upon a 
religious sanctuary for the hope of even saving 
their lives. 



292 Margaret of Akjou. [1471. 

Margaret found by friends. Her sad condition. 



Chapter XXIII. 
Childless, and a Widow. 

MARGAKET did not trust entirely for her 
safety to the sacredness of the sanctuary 
where she had sought refuge. She endeavor- 
ed, by all the means in her power, to keep the 
place of her retreat secret from all but her cho- 
sen and most trustworthy friends. Very soon, 
however, she was visited by some of these, es- 
pecially by some young nobles, who came to 
her exasperated, and all on fire with rage and 
resentment, on account of the death of their 
friends and relatives, who had been slain in 
the battle. 

They found Margaret, however, in a state 
of mind very different from their own. She 
was beginning to be discouraged. The long- 
continued and bitter experience of failure and 
disappointment, which had now, for so many 
years, been her constant lot, seemed at last 
to have had power to undermine and destroy 
even her resolution and energy. Her friends, 
when they came to see her, found her plunged 
in a sort of stupor of wretchedness and de- 



1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 293 

Her friends encourage her. Little success. Her wishes. 

spair from which they found it difficult to 
rouse her. 

And when, at length, they succeeded in so 
far awakening her from her despondency as to 
induce her to take some interest in their con- 
sultations, her only feeling for the time being 
seemed to be anxiety for the safety of her son. 
She begged and implored them to take some 
measures to protect him. They endeavored to 
convince her that her situation was not so des- 
perate as she imagined. They had still a pow- 
erful force, they said, on their side. That force 
was now rallying and reassembling, and, with 
her presence and that of the young prince at 
their head-quarters, the numbers and enthusi- 
asm of their troops would be very rapidly in- 
creased, and there was great hope that they 
might soon be able again to meet the enemy 
under more favorable auspices than ever. 

But the queen seemed very unwilling to ac- 
cede to their views. It was of no use, she said, 
to make any farther effort. They were not 
strong enough to meet their enemies in battle, 
and nothing but fresh disasters would result 
from making the attempt. There was nothing 
to be done but for herself and the young prince, 
with as many others as were disposed to share 
her fortunes, to return as soon as possible to 



294 Maegaret of Anjou. [1471. 

The young prince. An army collected. To Bath. 

France, and tliere to remain and wait for better 
times. 

But the young prince was not willing to adopt 
tins plan. He was young, and full of confidence 
and hope, and he joined the nobles in nrging 
his mother to consent to take the field. His in- 
fluence prevailed; and Margaret, though with 
great reluctance and many forebodings, finally 
yielded. 

So she left the sanctuary, and, with the prince, 
was escorted secretly to the northward, in order 
to join the army there. The western counties 
of England, those lying on the borders of Wales, 
had long been very favorable to Henry's cause, 
and when the people learned that the queen 
and the young prince were there, they came 
out in great numbers, as the nobles had pre- 
dicted, to join her standard. In a short time a 
large army was ready to take the field. 

Margaret was at this time at Bath. She soon 
heard that King Edward was coming against 
her from London with a large army. Her own 
forces, she thought, were not yet strong enough 
to meet him ; so she formed the plan of cross- 
ing the Severn into Wales, and waiting there 
until she should have a larger force concen- 
trated. 

Accordingly, from Bath she went down to 



1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 295 

To BristoL Endccivors to cross the river. Arrival of Edward. 



Bristol, which, as will be seen from the map, is 
on the banks of the Severn, at a place where the 
river is very wide. She could not cross here, 
the lowest bridge on the river being at Glou- 
cester, thirty or forty miles farther up ; so she 
moved up to Gloucester, intending to cross 
there. But she found the bridge fortified, and 
in the possession of an officer under the orders 
of the Duke of Gloucester, who was a partisan 
of King Edward, and he refused to allow the 
queen to pass without an order from his master. 
It seemed not expedient to attempt to force 
the bridge, and, accordingly, Margaret and her 
party went on up the river in order to find 
some other place to cross into Wales. She was 
very much excited on this journey, and suffer- 
ed great anxiety, for the army of King Edward 
was advancing rapidly, and there was danger 
that she would be intercepted and her retreat 
cut off; so she pressed forward with the utmost 
diligence, and at length, after having marched 
thirty-seven miles in one day with her troops, 
she arrived at Tewkesbury, a town situated 
about midway between Gloucester and Wor- 
cester. When she arrived there, she found that 
Edward had arrived already within a mile of 
the place, at the head of a great army, and was 
ready for battle. 



296 Makgaeet of Anjou. [1471. 

They make a stand. Battle of Tewkesbury. Preparations for the fight. 

There was, however, now an opportunity for 
Margaret to cross the river and retire for a time 
into Wales, and she was herself extremely de- 
sirous of doing so, but the young nobles who 
were with her, and especially the Duke of Som- 
erset, a violent and hot-headed young man, who 
acted as the leader of them, would not consent. 
He declared that he would retreat no farther. 

"We will make a stand here," said he, " and 
take such fortune as God may send us." 

So he pitched his camp in the park which 
lay upon the confines of the town, and threw 
up intrenchments. Many of the other leaders 
were strongly opposed to his plan of making a 
stand in this place, but Somerset was the chief 
in command, and he would have his way. 

He, however, showed no disposition to shel- 
ter himself personally from any portion of the 
danger to which his friends and followers were 
to be exposed. He took command of the ad- 
vanced guard. The young prince, supported 
by some other leaders of age and experience, 
was also to be placed in a responsible and im- 
portant position. When all was ready, Marga- 
ret and the prince rode along the ranks, speak- 
ing words of encouragement to the troops, and 
promising large rewards to them in case they 
gained the victory. 



1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 299 

Margaret's maternal anxiety. She witnesses the fight. Somerset. 

Margaret's heart was full of anxiety and agi- 
tation as the hour for the commencement of 
hostilities drew nigh. She had often before 
staked very dear and highly-valued friends in 
the field of battle, but now, for the first time, 
she was putting to hazard the life of her dear- 
ly beloved and only son. It was very much 
against her will that she was brought to incur 
this terrible danger. It was only the sternest 
necessity that compelled her to do it. 

When the battle began, Margaret withdrew 
to an elevation within the park, from which she 
could witness the progress of the fight. For 
some time her army remained on the defens- 
ive within their intrenchments, but at length 
Somerset, becoming impatient and impetuous, 
determined on making a sally and attacking 
the assailants in the open field. 

So, ordering the others to follow him, he is- 
sued forth from the lines. Some obeyed him, 
and others did not. After a while he returned 
within the lines again, apparently for the pur- 
pose of calling those who remained there to ac- 
count for not obeying him. He found Lord 
Wenlock, one of the leaders, sitting upon his 
horse idle, as he said, in the town. He imme- 
diately denounced him as a traitor, and, riding 
up to him, cut him down with a blow from his 
battle-axe, which cleft his skull. 



800 Margaret of Anjou. [1471. 

Panic and flight. Margaret's terror. She swoons. Capture of the prince. 

The men who were under Lord Wenlock's 
banner, seeing their leader thus mercilessly 
slain, immediately began to fly. Their flight 
caused a panic, which rapidly spread among all 
the other troops, and the whole field was soon 
in utter confusion. 

When Margaret saw this, and thought of the 
prince, exposed, as he was, to the most immi- 
nent danger in the defeat, she became almost 
frantic with excitement and terror. She in- 
sisted on rushing into the field to find and save 
her son. Those around found it almost im- 
possible to restrain her. At length, in the 
struggle, her excitement and terror entirely 
overpowered her. She swooned away, and her 
attendants then bore her senseless to a carriage, 
and she was driven rapidly away out through 
one of the park gates, and thence by a b^^-road 
to a religious house near by, where it was 
thought she would be for the moment secure. 

The poor prince was taken prisoner. He was 
conveyed, after the battle, to Edward's tent. 
The historians of the day relate the following 
story of the sad termination of his career. 

When Edward, accompanied by his officers 
and the nobles in attendance upon him, cover- 
ed with the blood and the dust of the conflict, 
and fierce and exultant under the excitement 



1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 803 

Death of the Prince of Wales. Margaret receives the tidings. 

of slaughter and victory, came into the tent, 
and saw the handsome young prince standing 
there in the hands of his captors, he was at 
first struck with the elegance of his appear- 
ance and his frank and manly bearing. He, 
however, accosted him fiercely by demanding 
what brought him to England. The prince 
replied fearlessly that he came to recover his 
father's crown and his own inheritance. Upon 
this, Edward threw his glove, a heavy iron 
gauntlet, in his face. 

The men standing by took this as an indica 
tion of Edward's feelings and wishes in respect 
to his prisoner, and they fell upon him at once 
with their swords and murdered him upon the 
spot. 

Margaret did not know what had become of 
her son until the following day. By that time 
King Edward had discovered the place of her 
retreat, and he sent a certain Sir William Stan- 
ley, who had always been one of her most in- 
veterate enemies, to take her prisoner and bring 
her to him. It was this Stanley who, when he 
came, brought her the news of her son's death. 
He communicated the news to her, it was said, 
in an exultant manner, as if he was not only 
glad of the prince's death, but as if he rejoiced 
in having the opportunity of witnessing the 



804 Margaret of Anjou. [1471. 

She is borne to London. Her condition on the journey. Her last hopa 

despair and grief witli whicli the mother was 
overwhelmed in hearing the tidings. 

Stanley conveyed the queen to Coventry, 
where King Edward then was, and placed her 
at his disposal. Edward was then going to 
London in a sort of triumphant march in hon- 
or of his victory, and he ordered that Stanley 
should take Margaret with him in his train. 
Anne of Warwick, her son's young bride, was 
taken to London too, at the same time and in 
the same way. 

During the whole of the journey Margaret 
was in a continued state of the highest excite- 
ment, being almost wild with grief and rage. 
She uttered continual maledictions against Ed- 
ward for having murdered her boy, and noth» 
ing could soothe or quiet her. 

It might be supposed that there would have 
been one source of comfort open to her during 
this dreadful journey in the thought that, in 
going to the Tower, which was now undoubt- 
edly to be her destination, she should rejoin 
her husband, who had been for some time im- 
prisoned there. But the hope of being thus 
once more united to almost the last object of 
affection that now remained to her upon earth, 
if Margaret really cherished it, was doomed 
to a bitter disappointment. The death of the 



1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 805 

Murder of the king, Tenible reverse of fortune. 

youDg prince made it now an object of great 
•importance to the reigning line that Henry him- 
self should be put out of the way, and, on the 
very night of Margaret's arrival at the Tower, 
her husband was assassinated in the room which 
had so long been his prison. 

Thus all Queen Margaret's bright hopes of 
happiness were, in two short months, complete- 
ly and forever destroyed. At the close of the 
month of March she was the proud and happy 
queen of a monarch ruling over one of the 
most wealthy and powerful kingdoms on the 
globe, and the mother of a prince who was en- 
dowed with every personal grace and noble 
accomplishment, afiianced to a high-born, beau- 
tifal, and immensely wealthy bride, and just 
entering what promised to be a long and glo- 
rious career. In May, just two months later, 
she was childless and a widow. Both her hus- 
band and her son were lying in bloody graves, 
and she herself, fallen from her throne, was shut 
up, a helpless captive, in a gloomy dungeon, 
with no prospect of deliverance before her to 
the end of her days. The annals even of roy- 
alty, filled as they are with examples of over- 
whelming calamity, can perhaps furnish no 
other instance of so total and terrible reverse 
of fortune as this. 

U 



806 Margaret of Anjou. [14T1. 

The body of King Henry. Borne away on the river to Chertsey. 



Chapter XXIY 
Conclusion. 

ON the day following tlie assassination of 
Henry, the body was taken from the Tow- 
er and conveyed through the streets of London, 
with a strong escort of armed men to guard it, 
to the Church of St. Paul's, there to be public- 
ly exhibited, as was customary on such occa- 
sions. Such an exhibition was more necessary 
than usual in this case, as the fact of Henry's 
death might, perhaps, have afterward been call- 
ed in question, and designing men might have 
continued to agitate the country in his name, 
if there had not been the most positive proof 
furnished to the public that he was no more. 

The body remained lying thus during the 
day. When night came, it was taken away 
and " carried down to Blackfriar's — a landing 
upon the river nearly opposite Saint Paul's. 
Here there was a boat lying ready to receive 
the hearse. It was lighted with torches, and 
the watermen were at their oars. The hearse 
was put on board, and the body was thus borne 
away, over the dark waters of the river, to the 



w 



i 



■ m 




1471.] Conclusion. 309 

Margaret in confinement. Wallingford, She is ransomed. 

lonely village of Chertsey, where it had been 
decided that he should be interred. 



For some time after Henry's death Margaret 
was kept in close confinement in the Tower. At 
length, finding that every thing was quiet, and 
that the new government was becoming firmly 
established, the rigor of the unhappy captive's 
imprisonment was relaxed. She was removed 
first to Windsor, and afterward to Wallingford, 
a place in the interior of the country, where she 
enjoyed a considerable degree of personal free- 
dom, though she was still very closely watched 
and guarded. 

At length, about four years afterward, her 
father. King Eene, succeeded in obtaining her 
ransom for the sum of fifty thousand crowns. 
Eene was not the possessor of so much money 
himself, but he induced King Louis to pay it, 
on condition of his conveying to him his family 
domain. 

The ransom was to be paid in ^ve annual in- 
stallments, but on the payment of the first in- 
stallment the queen was to be released and al- 
lowed to return to her native land. It was stip- 
ulated, too, that, as a condition of her release, 
she was formally and forever to renounce all 
the rights of every kind within the realm of 



810 Margaret of Anjou. [1476. 

The commissioner. Margaret crosses the Channel. At Kouen. 

England to which she might have laid claim 
through her marriage with Henry. It might 
have been supposed that they would have re- 
quired her to sign this renunciation before re- 
leasing her. But it was held by the law of En- 
gland, then as now, that a signature made under 
durance was invalid, the signer not being free. 
So it was arranged that an English commission- 
er was to accompany her across the Channel, 
and go with her to Eouen, where he was to de- 
liver her to the French embassadors, who, in the 
name of Louis, were to be responsible for her 
signing the document. 

This plan was carried into effect. Margaret 
set out from the castle of Wallingford under 
the care of a man on whom Edward's govern- 
ment could rely for keeping a close watch over 
her, and taking care that she went on quietly 
through England to the port of embarkation. 
This port was Sandwich. Here she embarked 
on board a vessel, with a retinue of three ladies 
and seven gentlemen, and bade a final farewell 
to the kingdom which she had entered on her 
bridal tour with such high and exultant ex- 
pectations of grandeur and happiness. 

She arrived at Dieppe in the beginning of 
1476, and proceeded immediately to Eouen, 
where the commissioner, who came to attend 



1476.] Conclusion. 811 

Her renunciation. Feelings with which she signed it. 

her, delivered lier to the French embassadors 
appomted to receive her, and attend to the sign- 
ing of the renunciation. 

The document was written in Latin, but the 
import of it was as follows : 

I, Margaret, formerly in England married, re- 
nounce all that I could pretend to in England, 
by the conditions of my marriage, with all oth- 
er things there, to Edward, now King of En- 
gland. 

It cost Margaret no effort to sign this paper. 
With the death of her husband and her son all 
hope had been extinguished in her bosom, and 
life now possessed nothing that she desired. 
She signed this fatal document, renouncing not 
only all claims to be henceforth considered a 
queen, but all pretension that she had ever been 
one, with a passive indifference and unconcern 
which showed that her spirit was broken, and 
that the fires of pride and ambition which had 
burned so fiercely in her breast were now, at 
last, extinguished forever. 

When the paper was signed Margaret was 
dismissed and left at liberty to go her own way 
to her native province of Anjou, where it was 
her intention to spend the remainder of her 



812 MARaARET OF Anjou. [1476. 

Ungenerousness of Louis. An escort offered. Danger. 

days. Her plan was to pass by the way of Par- 
is, in order to see once more her cousin, King 
Louis, who had treated her with so much con- 
sideration and honor when she was on her way 
to England with a fair prospect of finding her 
husband upon the throne. But the case was 
different now, Louis thought, and instead of re- 
ceiving kindly her intimation that she was in- 
tending to visit Paris on her way home, he sent 
her word that she had better not come, and ad- 
vised her instead to make the best of her way 
to her father in Anjou. 

He, however, as if to soften this incivility, 
sent an escort to accompany her in her journey 
home, but Margaret was so stung by her cous- 
in's heartless abandonment of her in her dis- 
tress that she resolved to accept no favor at his 
hands ; so she refused the escort, and set out 
with her few personal companions alone. 

This little blazing up of the old flames of 
pride and resentment in her heart came near, 
however, to costing Margaret her life, for she 
had not gone far on her journey before an emer- 
gency occurred in which an escort would have 
been of great service to her. It seems that 
when the English were driven out of Norman- 
dy, many families and some whole villages re- 
mained of people who were too poor to return. 



1476.] Conclusion. 813 

English people in Normandy. Margaret at the inn. Pdot at the inn. 

These people were now in a yevj low and mis- 
erable condition. They mourned continually 
the hard necessity by which they had been left 
without friends or protection in a foreign land ; 
and they understood, too, that the first begin- 
ning of the abandonment of their possessions in 
France by the English was the cession of cer- 
tain provinces by the government of Henry YI. 
at the time of that monarch's marriage with 
Margaret of Anjou, and that all the subsequent 
misfortunes of their countrymen in France, by 
which, in the end, the whole country had been 
lost, had their origin in these transactions. 

Now. it happened that Margaret, on her jour- 
ney from Eouen to Anjou, stopped the first 
night at one of these villages. The people, see- 
ing a party of strangers come to town, gathered 
round the inn at night from curiosity to learn 
who they might be. When they were inform- 
ed that it was Margaret of Anjou, Queen of En- 
gland, who had been banished from the king- 
dom, and was now returning home, they were 
excited to the highest pitch of anger against 
her as the author of all their sufferings. They 
made a rush into the house to seize her, and, if 
they had been successful, they would doubtless 
have killed her upon the spot. But some of 
the gentlemen who were in her party defended 



814 Margaret of Anjou. [1476. 

Margaret arrives in Anjou. Her father. 

her sword in hand, and kept the mob at bay 
until she gained her apartment. They guard- 
ed her there until they could send for the au- 
thorities, who came and dispersed the mob. 
Margaret immediately returned to Eouen, will- 
ing enough now to accept of an escort. A prop- 
er guard was provided for her, and under the 
protection of it she set out once more on her 
journey, and this time went on in safety. 

When Margaret at last reached her native 
country of Anjou, she was. received very kind- 
ly by her father, and went to live with him in 
a castle called the castle of Eeculee, situated 
about a league from Angers, the capital of the 
province. 

Here she remained about four years. . It was 
a very pleasant place. The castle was situated 
upon the bank of a river, and yet in a com- 
manding situation, which afforded a pretty view 
of the town. There was a beautiful garden at- 
tached to the castle, and a gallery of painting 
and sculpture. Her father, King Eene, was a 
painter himself, and he amused himself a great 
deal in painting pictures to add to his collection 
or to give to his friends. 

But Margaret could take no interest in any 
of these things. Her mind was all the time 
filled with bitter recollections of the past, which, 



1476.] Conclusion. 315 

Dreadful depression of spiiits. Its effects. Death of her father. 

even if she did not cling to and clierish them, 
she could not dispel. She dwelt continually 
upon thoughts of her husband and her child. 
She made ceaseless efforts to obtain possession 
of their bodies, in order that she might have 
them transported to Anjou, and, as she could 
not succeed in this, she paid annually a consid- 
erable sum to secure the services of priests to 
say masses over their graves in England, in or- 
der to secure the repose of their souls. 

Indeed, the anguish and agitation which con- 
tinually reigned in her heart preyed upon her 
like a worm in the centre of a flower. "Her 
eyes, once so brilliant and expressive," says one 
of her historians, " became hollow and dim, and 
permanently inflamed from continual weeping." 
Indeed, the whole mass of her blood became 
corrupted, and a fearful disease affected her 
once beautiful skin, making her an object of 
commiseration to all who beheld her. 

She continued in this state until her father 
died. He, on his death-bed, committed her to 
the care of an old and faithful friend, who, aft- 
er King Eene's decease, took her with him to 
his own castle of Damprierre, which was situ- 
ated about twenty-five miles farther up the 
river. 

But, though Margaret was treated very kind- 



816 Margaret of Anjou. [1476. 

The closing scene. 

Ij by the friend to whom her father thus con- 
signed her, she did not long survive this change. 
She died, and was buried in the cathedral at 
Angers, and for centuries afterward the ecclesi- 
astics of the chapter, once every year, at the re- 
turn of the proper anniversary, performed a 
solemn ceremony over her grave by walking 
round it with a slow and measured step, sing- 
ing a hymn. 



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